To Stand Once More in the Sun
by S.Hagen
Summary: Exalts of the Sun, Heron Jade Eyes and Ivory Peleps, having stopped the attempt to destroy Greyfalls now find themselves looking deeper into the artifact they have uncovered and how it came into their hands. Their investigation will lead to stand against one of Creation's greatest threats as they attempt to save the Scavenger Lands.
1. Prologue: The Seekers

List of Characters from Untruths of Time and Sparrow Hawk and Lighting

* * *

Solar Exalted - Chosen of the Sun(Selected from the most heroic of mortals who attempted the impossible)

Dawn Caste (The Warriors and Generals of the Unconquered Sun) - **Sparrow Hawk** (Airship Captain)

Twilight Caste (The Engineers and Sorcerers of the Unconquered Sun)- **Ivory Peleps** (Child Dynast from the Blessed Isle)

Eclipse Caste (The Diplomats of the Unconquered Sun) - **Heron Jade Eyes** (Beautiful gambler and gunslinger from the south)

* * *

Lunar Exalted - Chosen of the Moon (Selected from the Survivors of Creation)

Full Moon Caste (Ferocious warriors against the enemies of Creation) - **Lightning** (Claw Strider spirit animal, lightning ballistae of moonsilver on her forearms)

Full Moon Caste - **Redigost** (Yeddim spirit animal, hates Sparrow)

* * *

Sidreal Exalted - Chosen of the 5 Maidnens, chosen from mortals destined to Exalt, fates in the Loom chosen before the time of the Primordial War)

Chosen of Secrets (Jupiter's Exalted, they watch over things hidden or guarded) - **Dreaming Blue** (Using the Immaculate Faith to her ends)

* * *

Terrestrial Exalted - (Their bloodlines carry the elemental powers of the 5 dragons, not as powerful, but able to work together to combine their powers)

Water Caste (Flexible thinkers and problem solvers) - **Ragara Anzar** (Servant of the Immaculate Order, sought out the golden watch that Ivory has)(Ragaras are bankers in the Realm)

Air Caste (Dreamers and Schemers, researchers)** Abbess Cloud Hands** (Abbess at Greyfalls, joined Anzar in a Wyld Hunt that sought the destruction of Heron and Ivory)

Earth Caste (Staunch supporters of their society) **Mnemon Grace** (Joined Cloud Hands Wyld Hunt, her servant was killed by Heron and Grace hates him for it) (Mnemons are strategists and plotters)

Fire Caste (Driving forces of their society, living their lives as a series of exclamation points) **Kihoshi Cathak** (A young man seeking his fame and fortune, lost his arm in a fight with Ivory's tiger Hu) (The Cathaks are know to be Pious and Disciplined, not so much with Kihoshi)

* * *

Abyssal Exalted - (Servants of the Dead Gods of the Underworld, mortals who at the moment of death chose life as a servant of those gods)

Midnight Caste (The Preachers of the Dead) **Faded Maiden of the Tomb** (dresses as a Sijanese funeral priestess, completed devoted to the Walker in Darkness)

Daybreak Caste (The mad inventors and sadistic surgeons of the Dead) **Truth Found in Pain of Fire** (covered in terrible burn scars, a servant of the Walker in Darkness)

Day Caste (The Spies and assassins of the Dead) **Nihilistic Courtesan** (An Elegant Gothic Lolita with a bow, servant of the Neverborn more than her master the Walker in Darkness)

**Cold Rain**, Abyssal in service of the Mask of Winters. Detailed in Sparrow Hawk and Lightning.

* * *

To Stand Once More In The Sun

by Shawn Hagen

* * *

Prologue: The Seekers

Shattered and broken slabs of rock were thrust up on one side of the fallen mountain, forming a nearly impenetrable wall of debris and stone. And then behind it was a huge swath of land, ploughed nearly smooth by Metagalpa's earlier passage, littered with vast boulders; pieces of the mountain that had cascaded from its slopes.

It was, with little doubt, an impressive site. The flying mountain now rested once more upon the face of Creation, and in its fall it had wrought great destruction.

When she had first stared upon it Cloud Hands had not been certain what to think. Even with Grace's warning of the earth's cry of pain, the scope of the devastation was difficult to encompass.

Surely, she had thought when she first saw it, the Anathema are creatures of pure destruction.

It had been two days since the ground had shook. It had taken her wounded group of Terrestrials a day to cover the distance to the mountain and another to climb up the mountain's broken flanks.

And then she had found out that agents from Greyfalls were already there, subordinates and representatives of General Cathak Kitono mostly. It had been galling, in a way, and she felt that the Immaculate Faith should have been better represented. If the people of Metagalpa were to be brought into the faith then these first days would be the most important.

She had not the time to be concerned with such thing, unfortunately, for her hunt for the Anathema was far more important. And though the presence of the general's men bothered her, that did not stop her from making use of the military personnel; to get resupplied and to get an introduction to the leaders of Metagalpa, the hawk riders.

"I seek Anathema," she said simply, and without preamble, as soon as she met their leader, an old mortal named Torvin.

He nodded. "I think," he said, and his voice sounded tired, "that there was such among the dead that attacked us."

She frowned as she stared at the old man, sensing no duplicity on his part. "I see. I seek a man, said to be as beautiful as any comely woman, and a small girl."

"I did not see them amongst the dead that attacked us," he told her.

He was not lying to her, Cloud Hands thought, and yet, she was certain he was hiding something. "Are you certain?" she pushed, lending to her words the subtle current of essence.

Torvin stiffened, as if struck, and then said, slowly, as if picking his words with great care, "I am certain."

Cloud Hands angry outburst died stillborn as another in the room shouted out, "Enough!"

The woman who had yelled out was of average height and had the thin build of a hawk rider. In her anger the touch of the dragons was obvious, for her skin flushed a deep red and her eyes seemed to glow.

"Enough," the woman said again, striding forward.

"Silver Fingers," Torvin said, perhaps in an attempt to stop her from speaking, but his voice sounded tired and it was possible Silver Fingers did not hear it.

"The two Anathema were here. The beautiful man and the child. You can thank them for the fact that Greyfalls is not buried beneath this mountain, and we can thank them for the death of riders and hawks that saved your city."

Torvin sighed and slumped in his chair. It was as if he had suddenly aged several years.

Cloud Hands said nothing for a moment. Then, "I don't understand. You're angry that they led you in a fight against the dead? Led you to victory?"

"It was a fight we could not win. If not for them we would have evacuated," Silver Fingers told her.

And that was it, Cloud Hands thought. They cared not for Greyfalls or its people, but counted on both for their future safety. The old man Torvin did not seek to hide the fact they had fought alongside Anathema, but that the people of Metagalpa would have let Greyfalls be destroyed but for those Anathema.

"Where are they?" Cloud Hands asked Silver Fingers.

"They rode west, on a horse that ran faster than any hawk could fly."

She should stay and minister to these people. Who knew what the Anathemas' presence had done to them? But she could not stay, for she needed to hunt the man. Needed it with a desperation she still did not fully understand. It was what the Anathema's presence had done to her.

She said nothing to the hawk riders, just turned and walked away. She had no time for words now.

"What are you going to do?" Silver Finger's asked; her tone of voice held a hint of worry.

"To hunt the Anathema and destroy them," she said. For a moment she thought to add something else, some suitable quote from the Immaculate Doctrine, to shame them for their actions, but she was not in the right frame of mind.

Ahead of her, waiting, were the others: Anzar, anxious for reasons of his own; Grace, whose desire for revenge would drive her; Kohishi, badly wounded but still looking for opportunity. The core of her Wyld Hunt. Hardly enough, but what she had.

"We head west," she said, "as fast as we can."

* * *

Perched on the eaves, above the door from which Cloud Hands had exited, was a crow. It watched as the group of Dragon-Bloods left and then spread its wings and flew off. Wing beats sent the black bird up the steep sides of the mountain for some distance, and then it soared away from the rock face, going into a wide turn, sweeping away from Metagalpa.

After a time the bird folded its wings and dropped rapidly through the air as it dove towards the ground far below. Not far from the ground it spread its wings again, breaking its descent, and then flapping them hard to come to a gentle landing amongst the broken rock and wiry bushes.

Bird shifted into long limbed cat and cat leapt away, its brown, grey speckled fur making it almost invisible amongst the rock and vegetation. Cat followed a game trail, moving fast, startling small prey animals. The forest grew thicker around it, and soon the light was thick with the stain of the canopy.

Then the forest opened up onto the banks of a wide, shallow river, and the light of the early afternoon was bright and blinding.

Cat shifted, becoming a woman. Tall, dark skin and shoulder length dark hair, dressed in trousers bloused above knee high boots, wearing a white blouse and a burgundy leather waist cincher; slung across her back was a daiklaive, the large sword wrapped in a sheath of black leather.

On the stony bank of the river was a small camp; a simple lean-to and a small fire. In contrast to the almost primitive camp was the airship, resting partway on the river bank and partway within the river. It was of first age construction, blue jade alloy, shot through with orichalcium and moonsilver, the 'Blade'.

Seated upon the airship's port wing was a young woman, short and thin, with mousy brown hair and large brown eyes. She wore a pair of loose black pants, was bare footed, through her boots and socks rested on the wing beside her. Over a thin shirt of cotton she wore a leather jacket. She was smoking a marijuana cigarette and by her side an open bag full of chocolate.

Lightning splashed into the shin deep water, over to where Sparrow sat. She took the cigarette from her, brought it to her lips, and took a long drag.

"Oh, please, share," Sparrow said with a touch of annoyance in her tone, almost masking the hint of panic as Lightning leaned in close.

Lightning smiled and blew out a cloud of sweet scented smoke through her nose. She handed the cigarette back to Sparrow as she plucked a piece of the dark chocolate from the bag. "What's yours is mine, what's mine is yours," Lighting said, her voice like a purr, warm and mellow, and then she popped the chocolate into her mouth.

"Which you always say when I have something you want."

Lightning smiled and then said, "Found out what happened."

Sparrow leaned forward, eagerness overriding fear for the moment. "What happened? Tell me."

"Of course, my information is yours."

"Oh, shut up," Sparrow said, and passed the cigarette back to Lightning.

Lightning smiled, took a draw on the cigarette, then her demeanour grew more serious. "I found out what happened, or more to the point I found out who happened."

Sparrow tilted her head to the side, obviously curious.

"There were a pair of Solars there. One of them, a child apparently, blew the top off of the mountain."

Sparrow said nothing for several seconds, and then asked, "Why?"

"Have to admit I was a little confused about that myself at first, and I think I am still not entirely sure about it." She shifted about and took a seat a seat beside Sparrow. "It seems," she handed the cigarette back to Sparrow, "the dead were attacking, trying to pull the mountain so they could drop it on Greyfalls."

"That's not true. Is it?"

"It seems to be what the people on that mountain believe."

"Still…"

"Maybe they are lying very well, or they are suffering from some sort of mass delusion, but I think that it is true."

Sparrow shook her head. "I just find it hard to believe."

"Let's take it as a given. The man, very beautiful by all accounts, led them, the hawk riders, into battle against the dead. The child was responsible for blowing up the top of the mountain. Why they chose to get involved I could not tell you. Maybe they just don't like the dead."

"Sensible enough."

"So, the reason that the mountain fell was because a Solar sorceress blew it from the sky."

"And the dead," Sparrow said. "Let's not blame it all on the Solar."

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Either way, it was not some fluke of nature. We don't have to put our plans on hold. We can go and find our own flying mountain."

"I suppose. But…"

"But?"

"I'm curious about the man and the girl." Sparrow shook her head.

"I'm curious myself."

Sparrow ran her hands through her hair. "We don't have time."

"Who says?" Lightning put the cigarette into her mouth and took a long draw on it.

"We have all the work to do at Ice Tree."

Lightning blew the sweet scented smoke from her pursed lips and then said, "It can wait."

"But…"

"Trust me on this Sparrow. We have a very, very long life in front of us. We have time."

Sparrow looked doubtful, but asked, "Do we know where they are?"

"The headed west. Fast."

Quiet for several seconds Sparrow bit her lower lip, then said, "I want to follow after them." She looked nervous and hopeful at the same time.

Lightning nodded. "So do I."

* * *

That the dead could not die meant that there were punishments and tortures that they could undergo that would be impossible with the living. That did not mean that the dead who practiced torture did not ply their trade on the living. It was just they were limited when it came to such situations.

Not that the living could appreciate it.

Faded Maiden had been given over to the mercies of such a torturer, an ancient Nephwrack who hated all the Abyssals, for the Abyssals had taken its place of pride as a Death Lord's foremost servant. First it had healed her, after she had been brought, broken, from the ruins of mount Metagalpa. And once she was healed it had made Faded Maiden scream, scream until she had coughed blood from a throat worn raw. As Walker In Darkness had ordered the Nephwrack tortured her, punishment for her failure. Punished her, but did not kill her.

It was what Faded Maiden hung on to, that her lord still saw a use for her, that he did not want her dead. When the Nephwrack finally finished with her it was that thought that had kept her mind from breaking.

The Nephwrack, its work done, had his servants, jade effigies, toss her from his workshop.

She lay on the damp, dead ground of the Shadowland, naked, shivering with exhaustion. Around her was the small Grove of Dead Trees, more than a hundred miles east of Walker's Realm, where many of her lord's living servants made their home and headquarters. None of them dared approach her, to offer help, for it was obvious that they feared the Nephwrack was watching.

Slowly she forced herself up, her arms trembling with the effort to raise her torso from the ground. Teeth beginning to chatter she shifted her legs under her, until she was on her hands and knees, panting with the effort of it.

Next she would have tried to get onto her feet, but rescue in the form of two zombies arrived. Well made constructs of flesh and bone, smell of funerary spices and other preservatives, they moved with a smooth gait, so different from many of their mindless, rotting compatriots. They were works of art, and she knew who had sent them.

One draped a warm cloak of black velvet across her back while the other gently took her upper arm and aided her to her feet. Together they supported her as they helped her across the Shadowland, to a tower of dark stone that sat in a small grove of black fir trees. Her bare feet dragged along the smooth path that led up to the tower's large doors. She was able to navigate the stone steps, only tripping once, and the zombies' unflagging support kept her from falling.

The interior of the tower was dark and cool, rich with the smells of spices and chemicals, and quiet as a tomb. She felt much better almost immediately.

The zombies placed her on a small couch, and one draped a heavy quilt across her legs. Both of the dead then moved a few steps back and stood, quiet and unmoving. Slowly she slid her legs beneath her, pulled the quilt up and wrapped it tightly around about herself.

For a time she sat there, breathing slowly, letting the energy of the tower, a manse, wash over her, fill her. She felt stronger with each passing moment.

She heard the sound of a door opening and turned to look towards the noise. From a corridor came Truth Found in Pain of Fire, moving precisely as he crossed the room and moved towards her.

"Thank you for sending your servants," she said with a voice still raw from the screaming.

Truth nodded. "Yes." He paused. "You're welcome."

She shifted under the quilt and asked the question that had been plaguing her for days. "Has Lord Walker sent word for me?"

Truth said nothing for a moment, then said, "Only that he was disappointed in your performance."

Faded Maiden winced, closed her eyes tight, and took deep breaths. Finally she said, "Of course. I understand."

"He did not say anything else," Truth said, "just that."

"No orders?"

"No."

Faded Maiden reached up and ran her fingers across her lips. "I'll have to prove myself," she said softly. She stood, only trembling slightly, letting the quilt fall to her feet. "Where's Courtesan?" she asked.

"Ah," Truth said.

"Is she being tortured?" Faded Maiden smiled.

"I don't think so."

"Where is she then?"

"I do not know. She has disappeared."

"She's gone renegade?"

"I do not know," Truth told her.

Faded Maiden pursed her lips and said nothing for several seconds. "She disappeared after our failure at Metagalpa. Lord Walker let her?"

Truth looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure if he let her," he said, stressing the word 'he' ever so slightly.

And that explained it. The only ones who could command her lord; The dead gods of the underworld. The Neverborn.

She trembled, and pulled the cloak around her tighter.

Their dreaming whispers sometimes haunted Faded Maiden, a soft murmuring she could usually ignore.

Perhaps they were not so soft for Courtesan.

She found herself gritting her teeth, her hands clenched tightly.

"Lord Walker had no orders for me?" she asked, her words clipped.

"That is true," Truth said.

"He said nothing about Courtesan?"

"No."

"Very well," Faded Maiden said, and unclenched her hands. "The last orders he gave me were to watch Courtesan, to hunt her and kill her if she went renegade. I'll need armour and weapons."

"I will give you what I can."

She focused her attention on him. "What you can?"

"I'm afraid…"

"Lord Walker has denied me soulsteel," she said, interrupting him.

"Yes."

"Give me jade then, if you can."

He nodded. "I can do so."

* * *

The room was dark, the glass in the small windows too grimy to let much light in. The acrid scent of smoke from a small stove with a bad draw had permeated everything, as if the small room was filled with burnt furniture.

At a small table, covered in empty glasses and bottles, Jenka Ghost Hand sat. He looked tired, haggard, his usually neat hair and beard were un-groomed, and threads of silver had worked their way into his once dark hair. His once clear blue eyes were clouded by drink, and rimmed with red from the smoke. His face was bruised, and still puffy, from a beating he had taken not that many days before.

The waitress came into the room, placed a fresh bottle of wine on the table in front of him. She took a seat across from him.

Jenka pulled the cork from the bottle, put his lips around the neck, and then took a long pull. A stream of red escaped the side of his mouth, trailed down through his beard, and dripped onto an already stained shirt collar. He put the bottle down and said, "I don't want any company." His words were clear, especially for a man who had drunk as much as he had.

"That's okay," the waitress said, "I'm not here to offer company Jenka Ghost Hand. I want answers about the watch."

Jenka jerked in his chair, knocking some glasses from the table. He looked at the woman he had thought was the waitress. She was young enough to be one of the Inn's waitresses, but far too well dressed, with a formal kimono that looked as if it should grace an Emperor's court. Her short hair was dark, she had light brown eyes, and was attractive, through not beautiful.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Dreaming Blue, and I tell you that with the certainty that you will tell no one else."

"What?" Jenka demanded, and started to stand, but then his legs buckled and he dropped back into his seat. "What did you do?" he asked, voice trembling.

"Just some drugs, some in each of the bottles over the last few hours," she told him, pushing glasses and bottles aside as she leaned forward. "Go to sleep Jenka Ghost Hand."

Jenka's eye lids fluttered, then closed, and he slumped forward.

Dreaming smiled, and then said, "You are asleep Jenka Ghost Hand, a deep sleep, a safe sleep, dreaming and nothing can hurt you. Do you understand?"

"I, I understand…" he muttered softly.

"You had a watch. You lost it in a game to a man named Heron Jade Eyes. He came to see you, didn't he, to ask about the watch?"

"Yes. He beat me up, forced me to tell him. Terrifying sun demon."

"What did you tell him? No need to go into details, just give me the salient points. What you know is important."

"I was sent to the ruins of Unoia by the Mask of Winters, I found the watch there. Lookshy bought most of what I found, but was not interested in the watch. The Mask of Winters' agent said nothing about finding the watch," he said softly.

"The Mask of Winters sent you to many such ruins?"

"Yes. He gave me a hand that eats ghost, so I'm safe."

"And usually you sold what you found to Lookshy?"

"Yes."

Dreaming Blue nodded. "I thank you Jenka Ghost Hand. You have told me all I need to know. Now drift into a deep sleep and dream of what you like best."

Dreaming Blue got to her feet and moved to stand beside the man, geta crushing broken glass, listening, as the minutes passed, until his breathing stopped. She pulled the glove off of his left hand, looked at the strange thing that had been grafted to his palm, then put the glove back on.

"Speed quickly to lethe," she told the man, "the drugs will ensure it. Best your ghost does not linger to answer any questions. And I apologize for the desecration." She shifted his body to the side, pulled his arm across the table, knocking more bottles and glasses to the floor, and then, with a flourish, summoned a sword as long as she was tall into her hand. With a quick motion she severed his lower arm, halfway between wrist and elbow. "This is a little too important to leave behind."

The sword was banished as she released it and she picked up the arm, grasping it around the wrist.

Not looking back she left the room, a trail of blood behind her.

* * *

The giant zombie stumbled, falling hard against a tree, snapping it in two. Over ten feet tall, built from many bodies, shaped with necromancy and bound with soulsteel. Once it had been a machine, designed to cut through stone, to haul up huge loads and then to fight as an engine of war. Now it was nearing the end of its effective service. It was the last of its unit, having taken up its burden when the second last had fallen, as that one had taken the burden from a previous fallen companion.

The burden was a young woman, who looked emaciated, with the pale skin of one not long from the sick bed. She had fine blonde hair, which was tangled up with twigs and leaves. Her blue eyes looked large in her starved face. She was dressed in once fine clothing of silk and velvet, with a skirt puffed out by petticoats of yards of lace. The clothing was ripped and stained with travel. Held in the giant zombie's arm she looked like a doll.

The zombie fell hard to its knees, bone and skin cracking.

The woman, Nihilistic Courtesan, rolled from the giant's hold, landing lightly a few steps away as the giant fell forward, smashing its face on the ground. It tried to get up, but the bones within the shell of flesh did not seem to move correctly, and each movement was followed by a grinding sound.

"Stop," Courtesan told it, and the simple creature did so. She turned away from it and continued on, walking through the pine forest, making her way along an old trail covered in a thick carpet of fallen needles. She did not look back at the zombie that had carried her so fast, and so far.

All of the zombies had fallen in a similar way, their destruction allowing her to cross a vast distance in a short time.

She still did not think she had caught up with her prey, but she had not fallen too far behind.

The trail was both easy and hard to follow. When she came across a deep hoof print, caused by a horse that was running faster than the wind, it was obvious which horse had left it. However, such prints were spaced a great distance apart and it was not easy to find them.

Near a stream she found the remains of a camp site. She knelt down by a cold fire, running her fine, dirty fingers through the cold ashes. She picked up a partially burnt twig on the edge of the ashes and brought it to her nose. It was faint, but the sharp, sulphury smell of firedust was unmistakable.

Doubtful anyone else would waste a blast of firedust to simply start a fire. She had to be on the right track. Still, she would feel so much better if she knew the child was with the man. No reason to assume otherwise, it was obvious that they travelled together. The whispers in her head though, they wanted more.

"What track does a child leave? Fallen toys?" She cast about the forest floor. The pine needles were soft, and while each step left a mark, such depressions did not last long. "Soiled clothing?" She kicked through the needles, sending them up in a cloud of pine scented ground litter. "Damn it!" She yelled. "Leave me alone, let me think!"

She sat down heavily on a fallen log, pushing her skirts down between her knees. "She is with the man," she said between clenched teeth.

After a moment she took a deep breath, relaxing slightly.

She was a good tracker, having been trained in such things to better serve Walker in Darkness, but she was not so good as to be able to pick out the subtle clues that might be left behind by a child.

The whispers had quieted, and had lost their strident demands, but they were still there, urging her on. She ignored them for a time, closed her eyes, did not quite sleep, but almost. Finally she stood, pulled some detritus from her hair, then set off, continuing on the path, looking for the hoof print that would let her know she was still on the right track.

* * *

Once it had been said that the skies had been filled with the magical vehicles of an earlier age, before the demons had nearly destroyed the world. The Red-Claw was one such class of craft, sweeping wings on either side of the leaf shaped hull, an airship nearly forty feet long. In the age gone thousands of such vehicles had served as fast scouting craft.

Tolsay Mnemon did not know if that was true or not. He just knew there were certainly not that many of the aircraft in the skies now. The Red-Claw he flew was perhaps the only one left, for he had certainly never seen another. He called it 'Heart Spear' and had found it before he had come into the Empress' service. It was one of the things he considered his.

Of course without the backing of the Scarlet Empire he never would have been able to get it fully repaired and keep it maintained. So while he thought of it as wholly his, he was happy enough to use it for missions.

With skill he held the Heart Spear in a hover, hundreds of feet in the air, while he scanned the ground far away with a pair of far-seeing glasses. It took him a few minutes to find them. Cloud Hands and the Terrestrials she led. They were in poor shape, all things considered. The Anathema really must have handed them their asses, he thought.

Now that he had found them, what should he do?

Could be a real jerk, let them walk along for another day or two, and only then sweep down to give them a ride. They might be more grateful that way, maybe ask less questions. However from what he had heard about Abbess Cloud Hands she was not likely to buy the Good Citizen coming along at the right time. And there was no real reason to keep things secret. They wanted the Anathema dead. He was pretty certain that he wanted to make sure one of the Anathema died… perhaps not immediately.

No reason they could not work together.

So, he thought, putting the far-seeing glasses aside, time to go and give his allies for the moment a ride.

Hopefully they would be grateful.


	2. Chapter 1:A Poisoned Needle in a

Chapter 1: A Poisoned Needle in a Haystack

* * *

More than 700 years in the past the Seventh Legion had set about fortifying the ruined city of Deheleshen. It had been their orders, given by the region's Daimyo; The last Daimyo. They had never stopped following those orders and on the ruins of Deheleshen they had built the city of Lookshy and they had defended the river province.

One of their greatest strengths was their command of mighty weapons of mass destruction from the first age. Some of them had been equipment possessed by the Seventh Legion. Much had been recovered from the ruins within the River Provinces, the Scavenger Lands.

Agents of Lookshy watched those who hunted such ruins. And when a discovery of importance was made it was almost certain an agent of Lookshy would appear, to appraise and to offer to buy; if what had been found was important.

Most knew that it was easiest to simply take the money that Lookshy offered. For those that refused, well, Lookshy was very good about paying the heirs of such people. No matter how, the forces of Lookshy usually got what they wanted.

The magpie-like actions of Lookshy's procurement agents sometimes resulted in Lookshy acquiring objects that, in truth, they did not understand. They had to be important, that was something they were certain of, and it was best that they had control of such things, if only to deny them to others that might know how to make use of them.

Such items were stored in vaults, deep under the city, locked behind powerful first age defences.

Vault Nightingale Seven was one such storage place.

The General Staff of Lookshy would have been horrified if they had know that the lock of the vault was about to be defeated by a nine year old girl. Knowing that the nine year old girl was chosen of the Sun and carried in her the power of that god would not have likely made them feel any better.

The door to Vault Nightingale Seven, three feet thick, made of white jade alloy, run through with moonsilver, swung open. On the other side of the door stood the girl, red headed, golden eyed, dressed in a light blue kimono. Beside her stood a beautiful man, so beautiful he was often mistaken for a woman. He had long black hair and green eyes and wore a black and silver kimono with black hakama.

"You're getting good at that, faster than before Golden Eyes," the man said.

The girl looked up at him, smiling widely.

He ushered her into the room and began to close the vault door. She reached into the sleeve of her light blue kimono and removed a small cylinder. She twisted the end cap of the device and it began to glow, growing brighter as the door closed. When the vault door sealed with a soft, 'wuff' the cylinder illuminated the room as if they stood under a noon sun.

Heron Jade Eyes turned away from the closed door. "Vault Nightingale Seven," he said, and took a folded piece of paper from the inside of his kimono.

"What are we looking for?" Ivory Peleps asked as she placed the light rod on a table, next to a box made of bone and steel, decorated with jade inlay shaped as old realm characters.

Heron unfolded the paper. "Item one, a sword, daiklaive class, made of an unknown material, grey in colour, covered in fine etching."

"Found it," Naomi said, walking over to where the sword rested in a rack, upon a table.

Heron stepped close to and leaned over Ivory to take a look at the weapon. "What do you think?"

Ivory pulled a small case from out of the opposite kimono sleeve from which she had removed the light cylinder. Within the case were a collection of small, metal probes and a jewellers glass. Ivory put the glass to her eye, turning the base so it would adhere to her skin—it had just been a jewellers glass when she had received it, but since then she made a large number of modifications to it, improving it greatly.

Within the glass' body lenses shifted back and forth with the soft whir of clockworks. "It's not engraving," she said, leaning in close, taking one of her probes from the case. "It's like a puzzle," she said, "all the pieces fitting together."

"Why?" Heron asked.

Ivory said nothing, just ran the end of the probe along one of the seams. After several seconds she said, grudgingly, "I don't know."

"Does it containing something? Or maybe the pieces can be rearranged, forming something else?"

Ivory took the glass from her eye, it came free with a soft 'pop' and then shifted so her upper body was lying on the table so she could put her ear to the sword. Her hands blindly took a felt wrapped hammer from the case and she brought it around to start tapping the weapon. "Sounds hollow."

"A sample of the Great Contagion," Heron suggested.

Ivory fell from the table, knocking her case off as she dropped, ending up sprawled inelegantly on the floor.

"It was just an idea," he told her.

"Don't say things like that," she snapped, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

"Well, it has to hold something," Heron said.

Ivory got onto her hands and knees and began to gather up her tools. "This better not be broken," Ivory said more to herself as she picked up the jewellers glass, and then louder, "not necessarily. Maybe whatever it held is gone now."

"I say we put this on the list."

"We've put almost everything on the list." Ivory's tone skirted a whine.

"When you can guarantee me one hundred percent that these things are in no way a danger to the city I'll leave it off the list."

"I don't see how it's my fault we can't narrow it down to one thing." Her tools gathered and secured she got to her feet. "What's next?"

Heron looked at the paper. "A Sphere the size of a man's head consisting of nested orichalcium rings, unknown object at centre."

"Sounds strange," Ivory said as she looked around the room.

"Everything in these vaults is strange," he told her, and then, "over here." He crossed the room to a shelf upon which were several objects, including the sphere. It rested on a velvet covered stand, a depression in the stand holding it secure. Heron picked it up, it was quite heavy, and moved to one of the tables so that Ivory might have a better look at it. Ivory reached out and rolled the sphere back and forth, trying to understand it.

Concentric rings of orichalcium, each rotating on a different axis, creating what looked like a pitted sphere, and in the middle, something caught the light and reflected back a warm, golden glow. Ivory put the jeweller's glass to her eye and used one of the probes, using it to reach inside the sphere and set one of the inner rings spinning.

"Looks like a puzzle," Heron said.

Ivory nodded. "Looks like one." She climbed up onto the table.

"But do you think it is?"

"It could be, but..." Ivory left the sentence unfinished as she leaned in closer to the sphere. "I wonder how many hours you could spend trying to arrange the rings so you could see what is in the centre?"

"Well, the notes say that the sphere has been studied for one thousand, three hundred and sixty two hours."

"So it only looks like a puzzle," Ivory said. The inner rings she had set turning were still doing so, generating tiny puffs of air that gently ruffled the hair that hung down the side of her face. "But it is simpler than that, not meant to be solved, just known. All you have to do is..." she blew gently across the surface of the sphere, her breath mixing with the sphere's breath, the sound echoing within the constantly changing chambers, creating a soft, haunting sound.

"It's a musical instrument," Heron said.

Ivory said nothing, just continued to modulate her breath, seeking something out. The sound grew more sombre, and ivory wiped a tear from her cheek. Then there was a soft pop and a click as all the rings suddenly spun to the same axis, forming a disk with a hollow in the middle that contained a golden crystal. "It's a musical lock," Ivory said. "Or something like that."

"And what it is locking up?" Heron asked her as he looked at the revealed stone.

"Not sure, looks like a little like a Hearthstone." She took one of her probes and ran it gently over the golden stone, tracing out the gentle angles that made up an almost egg shaped sphere, almost, if not for the sharp, almost ninety degree angle that slashed down where the egg's base should have been. "So maybe this is all some sort of setting, or the stone powers it."

"So you don't know," Heron said.

She turned and looked up at him, frowning. "Well there's a lot it could be," she told him, her tone defensive.

"Is it an obvious danger?"

Ivory turned to look at the strange item, reaching out to gently stroke the stone. It felt warm under her thumb, and for a moment she thought she could smell fresh grass. "Hearthstone, she said with confidence. Powers this device. No idea what it does." She sighed. "It goes on the list."

Heron nodded, not appearing particularly surprised.

Ivory reached out and stroked her finger across the metal disk. There was a soft whispering sound as the rings swung out onto different axises, once more creating the sphere.

Heron gently picked it up and put it back where they had found it. "Last item," he told her. "A moon silver cylinder, four feet tall, 10 inch diameter, rough, circular patch on top."

As Heron looked around Ivory packed away her tools.

"Over here," Heron said.

Ivory slid off the table and crossed the room to Heron's side. Sitting on the floor was the cylinder that he had described. She looked at it for a moment, then, her caste mark lighting up, placed her forehead against the rough, circular patch.

Heron looked surprised, but did not say anything. It was not the first time Ivory had used her caste mark to operate some piece of first age technology.

There was a soft hiss, and around the top of the cylinder a seam appeared. As Ivory stepped away the cylinder cap was pushed up by a central piston made of white jade. Attached to the piston were cradles made of orichalcium wire, and within more than half those cradles were spheres of adamant.

Heron stepped forward and knelt down, taking a close look at what was revealed. At first he thought the spheres were solid, or if hollow, empty, but after a moment he caught the subtle shift of colour within each one, and, in that light, he caught sight of some slight imperfections within the material.

No, he thought a moment later, not imperfections, but writing.

He reached towards one of the spheres, then paused and looked towards Ivory. She nodded. He put his fingers around one and gently disengaged it from the cradle. It felt cool and smooth in his hand, but there was a tingling in his fingertips that was not all together unpleasant.

"Is that old realm?" he asked Ivory as he turned the sphere to better pick out of the lettering.

"Yes," Ivory said as she leaned in close, her hair brushing his face.

"What does it say?"

She leaned in closer, her body against Heron's. "Operation Wyldhand, lot three of three, unit seven of twenty one."

"What's operation Wyldhand?"

Ivory said nothing for several seconds, then, "This is the most dangerous thing we have found."

Heron did not immediately ask how she knew that, but instead, "Is this what we are looking for?"

Ivory shook her head. "Only a Twilight could open it."

"How do you know that?"

Ivory gently bit at her bottom lip, and shook her head.

Heron nodded, and put the sphere back in its cradle. Ivory's odd memories were something he had almost grown use to.

Ivory stood up on her tip toes so she could press down on the cylinder cap. The piston began to descend. A moment later it locked down, the seam fading away.

"So," Heron said, "we're no closer to finding out what the Mask of Winters wanted placed here."

Ivory nodded, but her eyes were on the cylinder. "Guess we think about it, and then look again. Maybe I can try the watch."

Heron shook his head. "The Mask of Winters would not have put the watch in play if it could have detected his actions."

"That is assuming he did."

Heron did not feel like debating it. Instead he told her, "We can't stay here too long. Eventually everything I've ordered will be ready."

Ivory was silent for a few seconds, then looked up at him and smiled. "We'll figure it out."


	3. Chapter 2: Gathering of Celestials

Chapter 2: Gathering of Celestials

* * *

Nexus was a great and large city, amongst the greatest in Creation, and yet it was also a dirty and harsh place, with vacillating laws and draconian government. It was a city of trade, on the convergence of three great rivers, the arteries of commerce bringing sustenance to what was the economic heartland of the Scavenger Lands.

Twisting up from the docks was one road among many, a small, paved road, too narrow for wagons, almost too narrow for the horses that walked up and down it, iron horse shoes often ringing out against the nearly black, indelible stone of the road. It was called by some the Old Man's Spine, for the many crooks in it.

As a road that did not serve trade the Old Man's Spine was often forgotten about, city planners not taking it in account, the mercenary guards not patrolling it, at times it was even left off maps. To those who took the time to think about it there was something strange about that.

However few people ever thought about it.

Near the top of the street, where the Old Man's Spine joined with Switch Back Street in the Sentinel's Hill district, was a tall building. Around its first three floors clustered, like children around their mother's legs, were a number of homes, but the tall building stretched five more stories above them.

People called the building Tall Peg, or the Grey Tower, though no one knew why. The base of the building was made of the same black stone as the Old Man's Spine and the rest of it a dark, brown oak.

Most people assumed that Tall Peg was a brothel, or a hotel; and it was both of those, and took advantage of the fact that many people passed through its doors to be more than that. For many decades the Silver Pact had maintained it, a safe house within the city. It had been there for many years, many decades, and while it was possible that the Emissary of Nexus and the Council of Entities knew of the building's other uses, they had never done anything about it.

In a small room near the top of the tower Sparrow sat upon a window bench and looked down at the city below. Part of her wanted to go down there, to enjoy the city, its people and its atmosphere. She sighed and put her chin down on the windowsill, staring at her wan reflection in the glass. "You're frightened," she told the reflection. "You're worried that he is out there, wearing some innocuous face, watching you. He can't hurt you. That's what Lightning told you."

Sparrow sat up, and then stood, turning and walking into the centre of the spartanly decorated bedroom.

"Which would be fine, if you trusted Lightning completely."

Sparrow shook her head, as if to deny it, then she fell back onto the bed's too soft mattress. She trusted that Lightning would not actively try to hurt her, but the Lunar had before, unknowingly, led her into danger. "She won't this time," Sparrow said, and rolled off the bed. She paced back to the window, stared out of it for a time, then crossed the room to the bathroom where she looked at the large, copper bath tub for a time before she left the bathroom and went back to the bed.

"I'm bored," she said to herself, and then stood from the bed and walked to the door. At the door she pulled on her boots, tucked the top of her pants into them, and then put on her jacket.

She paused for a moment, her hand on the door knob, then, straightening her shoulders, she opened the door and left the room.

"Not like simple wooden walls were all that safe," she said.

She took the stairs down, eschewing the use of the crude elevator, and was not long after on the black stone of the Old Man's Spine.

She moved carefully through the streets, quickly, but with a certain grace, always maintaining her personal space. Sometimes she stopped to examine some merchant's wares, or to watch something of interest. She purchased a silk scarf, and stopped for a while to watch a performing yeddim. The beast was impressive, but it reminded her far too much of Redigost, and she did not stay long. Not far from there she stopped to watch a puppet show instead.

Sparrow smiled and shook her head as, in the show, an evil Anathema came out. The children screamed with good natured terror, as they were supposed to, and cheered when the Immaculate hero came.

As a child she had watched similar shows, with the same rapt attention as the children in front of her. She supposed it was easy to believe the lies in such shows. She had no problem envisioning Redigost as such a monster.

When the show ended she tossed a bit of silver into the performers' bowl. She paused near the puppeteers, as if she might say something, but instead shook her head and went off.

Feeling thirsty she purchased a fruit drink, served in the fruit's rind. It was overly sweet, but cold, and there was a barrel of cold, clean water at the stall with which she could wash away the thick, sugary aftertaste.

As she swished the water in her mouth she saw a group of children, recognized them from amongst the audience at the puppet show. She watched for a time as they played in the small park. It took her a moment to realize they were playing 'Wyld Hunt', casting themselves as the Terrestrials that were dealing with the Anathema demon. Apparently none of them had wanted to take the roll of the Anathema, for their foe was imaginary.

Sparrow did not think the Anathema they were fighting was doing very well.

What did it mean of her that she suddenly felt a desire to lecture some children on their stupidity? Well, she supposed it was not the first time she had felt so, but this was the closest she had ever felt to acting on that feeling. She tossed the empty fruit rind aside and walked away.

Little brats, she thought.

Thinking about the fact that most of Creation would view her as a monster took her mind away from other things. She was less precise about maintaining a bubble of personal space around her, and even occasionally bumped into another pedestrian. When one of those pedestrians cursed her and grabbed for her she simply avoided the grasp and made a rude gesture with her finger.

Which was fortunate for the person who tried to grab her.

At another time she might have very well killed someone for trying to lay hands on her.

Ultimately she did not feel like a monster.

That had to mean something.

She was just the victim of a bad reputation.

Her wandering brought her to an iron fence, ringing a structure made entirely of human skulls.

She recognized it for one of the tombs of Nexus, for it was not the first time she had been in the city, and while she had never before seen the Tomb of Candle-Eyed Skull, she had heard of it. Wrapping her fingers around the iron bars she stared at the building. Wondered if she might survive to cross the space between the fence and the structure.

"I wouldn't try it," she heard Lightning say from behind her.

"Try what?" Sparrow asked.

"Try what you are obviously thinking about. Sure you might succeed, but that is going to raise a cry from the people around here, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Emissary showed up."

She took her fingers from the bars and turned to face Lightning. "Are you afraid of the Emissary?" Her tone curious.

"Cautiously wary. A powerful being."

Sparrow nodded, and then said, "But so are we."

"But powerful enough? The one way to find out could go very poorly."

"I suppose," Sparrow mused.

"Let's put that aside. I found them."

The air of speculation fell away from Sparrow and she focused completely on Lightning. "Tell me," she said.

"This Heron does not do things halfway. Blew into nexus almost two weeks ago, bought three coasters, all the cargo to fill their holds and hired all the crew he needed in less than two days, dropped a fortune on it all. Then he sailed down river to Lookshy." She laughed. "The man is something else."

"Two weeks ago? And why is he something else."

"Two weeks. That horse is fast, and he is something else because he made back his fortune and then some when he arrived in Lookshy. Brought all the right things at the right time."

"That's," Sparrow paused, "that's an impressive bit of work."

"As I said."

"He's in Lookshy now?"

"As far as my contacts can tell. Ready to go?"

Sparrow nodded. "Yes."

* * *

Courtesan sat upon the stone casket, around her the thick shadow of the old crypt. Her feet swung back and forth as, with her eyes closed, she listened to the quiet sounds about her. There were rats in the wall, and insects that crossed the floor; somewhere small birds had found a way in through the roof and the fluttering of their wings was part of the symphony.

"So dreary," she said softly, running her hands along her thighs to smooth out her skirt.

Once more she was attired in clean clothing, in black and white silk, her skirts puffed out by yards of petticoats, which were fresh and starched and so white that as they peaked out from beneath her skirt they very nearly seemed to glow in the shadow within the crypt. Her hair was neatly styled, blonde ringlets, a drape of gold falling across her shoulders.

Several days ago she had stopped at Nexus, ostensibly to speak with some of the agents that Walker kept in the city; though in truth to clean up for she had been moving almost nonstop, trying to find her quarry. It had been pure luck, so she had thought at the time, that she had learned those she followed had recently stopped at Nexus themselves before they had gone on to Lookshy.

Of course, now, that she had come to the end of her hunt, so she hoped, that she considered it was probably not luck, for the whispers of her true masters had never been too far away.

The dead knew so much after all.

Her tracking abilities and those whispers had brought her within sight of the walls of Lookshy.

Within was the girl.

She had known that when, late the night before, she had looked upon the city.

Now she had to decide how to go about making the girl dead.

Lookshy was full of Terrestrial Exalted, and while Courtesan was certain that she might best a small group of such, there were many within the city. She also did not know what sort of allies that the girl might have found within Lookshy, if any.

So she sat on the ancient casket of some long forgotten soldier, and waited.

The girl would have to leave, she was certain of that.

All she could hope was that her masters would let her wait, for in the quiet of the crypt she heard the whispers of the Neverborn urging her to action. She did not think patiently waiting would be an option.

* * *

Well dressed, though not well mannered, the children of the Gens. There were heroes in their families, siblings, or parents, or aunts, or grandparents, somewhere among those a champion of the dragons. They knew it, those children, and they assumed they too would know that blessing.

Too young to doubt themselves and old enough to appreciate what their birthright could mean, they were, as a group, brats.

They were much like the Children Ivory had known from the Blessed Isle.

She did not really like them, but she could have fun with them.

And that was important.

And if in twenty years she wandered the streets to Lookshy and were to see them, grown up, it would not hurt her.

They stood in an alley, between two big warehouses. Ottom of Gens Nefvarin had stolen some hashish from his brother and had brought it with him that day. Sooka of Gens Carendar had taken it and said they would need to smoke it. He had bullied Linna of Gens Teresu into borrowing, stealing really, her father's tobacco pipe.

Ivory had watched, making sure she did not laugh, as she watched Sooka, the oldest, with his put on air of experience, try to smoke the hash.

She had seen people smoke it before and could have told them what they were doing wrong, but it was funnier just to watch; and it also ensured she would not have to smoke it.

Ottom was nearly whining, upset that the small brick of hashish he had stolen was not making him happy. "It's sposed to make me happy, like my brother."

"To the yozis with your brother," Sooka said, throwing pipe and hash down, breaking the ivory stem from jade bowl and then grinding the hash under heel of his bare foot. "No one wants to get stupid with your brother's stupid drug anyway."

Ottom was used to following Sooka, but he was nearly as old and maybe little bigger, certainly heavier, than Sooka, and obviously their self-styled leader had pushed him too far. Ottom leapt at Sooka, grabbing him and pushing him against the wall.

While the two fought Ivory ducked in and picked up the broken pipe. She looked over at Linna-who was looking near tears as she gazed at the remains of the pipe-and smiled. Fitting the broken pieces back together she instantly repaired the damage.

Stepping close to the other girl she said, "Look, it wasn't broken, just came apart." She held the pipe out to Linna.

Linna visibly relaxed and took it. She looked towards the still fighting boys, and then slid the pipe into her kimono.

"Thank you Ivory," she said.

Ivory smiled at her and nodded. Linna was a pretty little girl who, like Ivory herself, had learned people would do things for pretty girls. She was probably the worst of the lot, and while normally Ivory would have taken a certain petty joy at the thought of Linna getting punished by her father, she needed a favour from the girl.

"You gonna ask Sooka for me?"

Linna nodded. "I will." She looked towards the boys, who were still throwing each other around, and said, "Soon as they finish fighting."

Ivory nodded and stood back with Linna to watch the fight. It was pretty certain that Sooka would win, but Ottom was a tough child, and he was not the type to beg and cry. Sooka seemed to realize that, for he ended things before either had done much more than leave some bruises on the other. He tossed Ottom hard against the alley wall, knocking the breath out of the other boy. He followed up with a hard punch to Ottom's gut which very neatly bent him in half as his remaining breath exploded from his lungs leaving him gasping.

"Your brother's not stupid," Sooka said, by way of apology. "You are though."

Ottom nodded between wheezy breaths.

"Boys," Linna whispered to Ivory.

"Boys," Ivory agreed.

Sooka waited until Ottom had caught his breath, and, keeping an eye on his rival, likely out of worry he might retaliate. He said, "Let's go do somethin'," once Ottom had straightened.

Ivory nodded at Linna and Linna moved closer to Sooka, smiled, and asked, "Can we go to the western factory yard? I hear a lot of war machines are being worked on."

Sooka looked at her for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Sounds boring. Let's go down to the docks and see what's happenin'. Ivory can let us on her dad's ships again."

Linna looked back at Ivory and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, 'What can I do?'

Ivory nodded to show she understood and wondered aloud, "I wonder if there are any new ships down there."

Sooka seemed happy with the way things had turned out and strutted out of the alley.

Ivory followed after him, hearing Linna and Ottom behind her. She skipped up close to Sooka and said, with just enough respect in her voice, "I like how you don't care what anyone thinks."

He looked down at her, frowned, and then said, "What?"

She smiled at him. "If someone thinks you're 'fraid to go to the factory, you don't care."

"I'm not afraid," he told her, anger in his voice.

"I know," she said, as if she did not hear the anger. "And even if someone thought you were you wouldn't care." And then, as if she was no longer interested in the conversation, she ran towards a street vendor.

Ivory had thought of taking over the group, but she was not going to be there long, and simply beating Sooka and Ottom up would not have done it. They were children of Terrestrials, and they would not follow anyone less. And it was not like Ivory could tell them she was both Peleps and Exalted of the sun and therefore claimed a better birthright than any of the traitorous scum of Lookshy; as much as she might really want to.

Fortunately she did not have to actually lead them to get them to do what she wanted.

"I've changed my mind," she heard Sooka say as she looked over the vendor's wares. "We're goin' to the factory to look 'round."

Ivory smiled before she turned away from the vendor's shoddy goods and walked back to the others.

* * *

Heron looked through his notes, reviewing everything that he and Ivory had found out. The notes were hidden in plain sight, scattered in amongst bills and other paperwork. The bills of lading and other documents were related to the three ships he had down at the river docks, and their eventual cargoes.

He figured he had three more days before the esoteric cargo list he had put together was completed; then he would have to leave. Staying would draw attention, more than he already had. So far he was certain that the authorities of Lookshy saw him as an eccentric but clever merchant. If he stayed beyond those three days they were bound to start watching him even closer than they already were.

Assuming they simply did not throw him out of the city, or arrest him.

It was, after all, a dangerous gambit he was playing.

Three days.

He and Ivory were going to have to figure out what the threat was and take it.

That or just take everything.

He was leaning towards the second plan, and had already worked out the details of such a job. The time frames would be razor thin, but between himself and Ivory he thought they could pull such a theft off.

There was a soft knock at his door. Looking up from the papers on his desk he said, "Come in."

The door was opened by a young woman named Pira. She bowed and said, "Captain Lathe wishes to see you."

"Thank you Pira, please send him in."

She nodded politely, and said, "Yes Mister Jade Eyes," her tone almost deferential, her words having only a hint of a hard edge. She backed away from the doorway, each foot fall hitting the wooden floor just a little too hard.

Heron smiled, sorted through the papers on his desk, and looked up a moment later when Pira led Captain Lathe into the room.

Poris Lathe was a short, fat man, still not at his middle years, possessing thick, curly black hair and dark, brown eyes.

"Sir," Poris said as he came into the room.

"Good to see you Captain. Pira, could you bring a bottle of brandy for myself and the captain?"

"Of course Mister Jade Eyes," she replied, her smile not reaching her eyes.

After Pira had left to fetch the bottle Poris asked Heron, "Did I do something to make that woman mad at me?"

"No," Heron said, and smiled. He stood and walked to the side board, picking up a pair of crystal tumblers. "She's always that way."

"Gods, no?"

"Well, always that way since I met her," Heron corrected himself as he returned and put the glasses on the desk. "She's high born, maybe even blooded."

"And she's working as a servant?"

"And so her anger."

"But..."

"She's a spy, for the city. Keeping an eye on the interesting foreigner."

"If she's a spy..." Poris hunched his shoulders and dropped his tone, "If she's a spy, then should you be talking about it?"

"She knows I know, which is one of the reasons she is angry." Heron smiled again.

"Well gods curse me to the hundred hells. You've got a strange way of doing things Sir."

Heron simply arched an eye brow and lifted his hands palm up.

Pira came back into the room, carrying a bottle with her. "Your brandy Mister Jade Eyes," she said.

"Thank you Pira," he told her, and accepted the bottle that she held out.

Heron yanked the cork and dismissed Pira with a nod. He filled the two glasses nearly to the rim and then placed one on the desktop in front of Poris. "Thank you Sir," Poris said, picked up the glass and then drank back nearly half the contents before taking a seat.

Heron left the bottle close to the other man and sat back down, taking a sip at his glass. "So, what brings you up from the ships?"

"Well Sir," Poris said as he reached for the bottle, "most of the cargo had been delivered, and we're just waiting on a few more pallets and we should be able to leave in..."

"Three days," Heron said.

Poris paused as he was about to top up his glass, then smiled and continued to pour a healthy measure. "Should've known you'd be up on this sir. But as you say we'll be ready to ship up or down the river in three days, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He put the bottle back on the desk. "We don't got quite enough crew. Many of the men you put off the ship have already shipped out with other captains."

"I'm sure we can find crew when we need it."

"Sorry to argue Sir, but I don't like the sound of that. You got luckier than you deserved when you put those crews together in Nexus. I was sure most of them were pirates, waiting till we got clear of the city to slit our throats and make off with the ships."

"But they weren't, and they didn't," Heron said. "I like to think I am good judge of character."

"Or lucky."

Heron nodded. "Fair enough. Still willing to trust in my luck?"

Poris shook his head and took another large drink from his glass. "Yes sir," he said a moment later, "fool that I am. Still, if I start looking around now, I might be able to find some that we don't have to trust your luck so much with."

Heron thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I think you have a point. Do so; feel free to pay what you need to, to get good crew." He decided that the authorities would be put at ease if they could see that he was in fact getting ready to go.

"Thank you Sir." He finished his remaining brandy in one gulp. "I'll get right on it." He stood.

"And while you are doing that, make sure we are ready to leave at a moment's notice."

"Of course Sir," Poris said, putting the empty glass down on the desk. "I'll make sure we can put out as soon as needed." He turned and walked to the door, then stopped and looked back at Heron. "We might have to leave with a moment's notice?"

"It never hurts to be prepared," Heron said, and took another sip of his brandy.

"Ah, yes sir." He nodded and then left the office.

Heron took the bottle from his desk and was about the slide the cork back in when an older woman entered the room. She was tall, and rail thin, with a somewhat distasteful look on her face, as if she smelt something unpleasant. Her short, straight blonde hair was streaked with grey, her blue eyes seemed faded. "Master Jade Eyes," she said, enunciating each word, "I really must speak with you."

Heron pushed the cork back into the bottle, not offering the woman a glass, and smiled. "Of course Miss Hill, please, have a seat."

"I will stand Master Jade Eyes," Alicia Hill said. "This should not take long."

"Of course then I must also stand," Heron said as he got to his feet.

This seemed to put her off, and a soft blush crept across her cheeks. She took a deep breath and said, "Your daughter Master Jade Eyes, she is impossible. Her calligraphy teacher has been waiting for an hour now."

"Ah," Heron said, and he nodded, "she is something of a troublesome girl, and you are very kind to put up with her faults."

That, as Heron had expected, kept Alicia slightly off balance, and she seemed uncertain for a moment, but after a few seconds regained her momentum, and she said, "She is troublesome indeed Master Jade Eyes, and while I understand your progressive," and she said 'progressive as if the word left a bad taste in her mouth, "views on child care, I think that Ivory would benefit from corporal punishment."

Heron frowned and said, "I really do not want to hear that," he told her. In truth he was of the opinion that Ivory would benefit from some time over Alicia's knees, but he suspected one of two things would happen. Either Ivory would defend herself – likely far out of proportion to the act – or that Hu would. "Ivory is just high spirited, possibly a reaction to her mother's passing."

And at that Alicia seemed to deflate.

Mentioning the alleged dead mother always did that, though Heron was careful to overuse it.

Alicia was not stupid after all.

"Once we get more settled we can give her a little more order in her life," Heron offered to the woman.

Not that he expected to get any more settled.

"Yes Master Jade Eyes," she said.

Heron watched her go, feeling a little sorry for the woman he had hired to look after the day to day care of Ivory. She was basically a decent person. Heron sat down and turned his attention back to his work. Not looking up he said, "Please close the door Pira."

He heard the door close, almost, but not quite slamming.

Heron smiled ever so slightly.

* * *

Sochei Nitin Bawa enjoyed a roguish reputation in the Seventh legion.

A supply technician by trade, a master thief and horse trader by practice. If a unit needed something, good old Nitin was the man to get it. From warstrider parts, to silk undergarments, rough rations to fine alcohol, he could find it.

Many a soldier of the Legion spoke of Sochei Bawa as an old friend, or at least a respected rival.

Hard to find, was Nitin, probably asleep somewhere, they might say, but always around when needed.

Not that Nitin Bawa really existed, for he was just a destiny that Dreaming Blue wore. The old, wily supply officer gave her a great deal of ability when it came to influencing the destiny of Lookshy and the Seventh Legion. The right piece of equipment at the right time, it could change everything. 'For want of a nail' her Sifu had once explained to her.

Nitin was the perfect destiny, for anyone who saw him about simply assumed he was up to some sort scam; all for the good of the legion of course.

What Dreaming Blue was up to was watching a young girl.

How she would have simply preferred to sweep down on the girl, on Ivory Peleps, Golden Eyes Ivory, and take the Orrery from her. And she would have, were she not certain that Ivory had sent it Elsewhere. She was considering simply kidnapping the girl, locking her up in some secure place in Yu Shan, and simply letting the girl stew until she handed over the Orrery.

At the moment she was not quite ready to go that far, and instead satisfied herself with watching, hoping the girl might reveal the Orrery. She also was observing what Ivory and Heron Jade Eyes did, hoping to discern what the Orrery may have shown them by their actions.

As to what they were doing in Lookshy, she had no doubt it was tied up in the actions of Jenka Ghost Hand, and his Death Lord master. And that was what was really staying her hand, willing to wait until she knew what the Death Lord was planning.

And if Ivory and Heron were going to do the work for her...

She looked down from the defensive walkway she had set herself on, down past the fortifications, to a street, where a group of children ran. She picked out Ivory, her red hair a beacon. A natural leader, that girl was, Dreaming Blue thought. Given the time and inclination she did not doubt Ivory could raise a great army, child or not.

Such was the nature of the Solars.

That had to play a part in why their powers would drive them mad. To have that much power, it had to leave its mark.

And such power would inspire jealousy...

She reached up and tapped her temple, as if to knock such a thought from her mind and returned her attention to Ivory.

If only the girl would carry the Orrery on her. Once Dreaming Blue had it she could turn this matter over to a Wyld Hunt.

Probably over to a Wyld Hunt.

There were ways that she might make use of the two Solars, for a while at least.

So maybe she would not let the Wyld Hunt handle it, at least not right away.

* * *

Faded Maiden of the Tomb cared deeply for the dead. Many had been terribly hurt in life, and she sought to make their existence as ghosts much better, where she could. Towards the living she felt no such desire. She held the red jade scythe in her lap, gently brushing the edge with her thumb. The war scythe, as with the white jade suit of articulated plate, had come from Truth's collection of spoils, taken from fallen enemies. She had covered herself with the robes of her profession, hiding the armour under the trappings of death.

It was not the same.

The armour and arms of soul steel had whispered and moaned to her, like constant friends; The cool to the touch metal that caressed her body like a lover.

But jade was what she had been allowed, and jade was what she would use.

And the man she was speaking to seemed to find the red jade war scythe threatening enough.

"So, tell me about Courtesan," she asked Ballack, servant of the Walker in Darkness and the living man in charge of operations in the scavenger lands around Nexus.

He swallowed and wiped a hand across his forehead, his fingers coming away damp with perspiration. "I don't know very much," he said, swallowing heavily.

"I did not ask you how much you knew or did not know."

He nodded, looking miserable, and said, "She was in Nexus about six days ago. She spoke to one of the bankers, to get money."

A muscle in Faded Maiden's jaw tensed, and she said, "And it was given to her?" She sharply enunciated each word.

Ballack nodded, his eyes wide.

Faded Maiden forced herself to relax and asked, her tone not so harsh, "Is she still in the city now?"

"I don't think so. I think she went to Lookshy." The words rushed from his mouth.

"Lookshy? Why?"

"I don't know," Ballack said.

Faded Maiden was about to tell him that it had been a rhetorical question, that she had not thought he would know, but instead she asked, "How did she travel."

"I was told that she took a fast river boat, left very soon after arriving."

Faded Maiden was quiet. She was considering how fast she could get to Lookshy. If she had her master's trust and resources then the travel would present little trouble, but now she was reduced to being concerned about funding and transport schedules.

Her feelings must have shown on her face, for Ballack looked as if he wanted to run away, to be anywhere other than sitting across from her.

Saying nothing else she stood, turned and walked away.

She was going to have to dirty her hands with the prosaic act of highway robbery.

That did not make her happy but it would give her a chance to express that unhappiness on someone.

* * *

Climbing up onto the warehouse roof had not been hard, though Ivory had ripped the hem of her kimono on a nail while crawling through the hole in the wall, and Sooka had nearly twisted his ankle while climbing a rickety ladder. It was worth such minor problems, for the flat roof overlooked the large yard where the Lookshy Sorcerer Engineers worked on various pieces of equipment, preparing and purifying before it was moved into the cathedrals where the real work would be done.

Several warstriders were in the yard, as well as a single manta shaped flying ship, and a large, armoured wagon. Those were the largest and the most obvious things, but there was so much else to see. Ivory sat on the edge of the roof, marvelling at all the technology that was down there. She supposed that there were places in the Realm where she might see such things, but she had never visited those places.

"Wow, look at that 'strider," Ottom exclaimed, pointing at a white jade behemoth. "That's the type I'm gonna use."

"Never gonna let you pilot one of those," Sooka said snidely. "Best you'll get is a plunky little scout."

"Nuh uh," Ottom said. "Gonna be too big to fit in a scout. They'll have to give me one of those big ones."

"Too fat you mean."

Ottom only laughed. "Can have a lot of muscle under fat. Like a wrestler!"

Sooka actually looked surprised by Ottom's reply. The boy stood there, as if trying to come up with a counter.

"I don't like fat men," Linna stated, "even if they are wrestlers."

Ivory turned away from the three, focusing her attention completely on the events taking place below. She wanted to desperately go down there, to put her hands on the magitech, to feel it, to fix it and make it work like it should. She could. She was certain she could.

If only she could have the chance.

She was scanning the ground below when she saw them. The man had a stout frame, and even at the distance she could hear his loud voice as he shouted orders. Walking close to him was a strange woman, looking as if she were dressed in some kind of tight armour.

"Linna," Ivory called, "who is that?" She pointed down at the woman.

Linna left the arguing boys and came to kneel at Ivory's side. She looked in the way Ivory was pointing. "That short man? That Maheka Yoti," she said.

"No," Ivory said, "the woman following him."

"That's no woman," Linna said, giggling. "That's a wind up doll, it's his armiger."

"I hear he has sex with it," Sooka said, joining the conversation by dropping down to sit beside Ivory. He began to make jerking motions; Ivory supposed he was parodying the act of love making. "Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky," he said with a laugh.

"Ick," Linna said. "That's stupid. No one would do that with a wind up doll."

Ivory remembered some stories she heard about House Cynis and suspected that people might do that with a wide variety of things. She suddenly found her cheeks growing warm and she looked down, lest her companions think the blush was for what Sooka had said.

"I hear the doll's got lots of built in weapons," Ottom said.

"Maybe its own built in cock," Sooka said with a snort, and laughed loudly at his own joke.

"You're a dumb pervert," Linna told him.

Sooka only laughed harder.

Ivory raised her gaze staring down at the mechanical armiger. She was struck by a sense of memory, of sudden ennui. She whistled softly, starting low, then trilling up several octaves, before dropping back to a lower register.

The armiger stopped and looked up towards where Ivory knelt. For several moments girl and construct stared at each other, as around them were different forms of chaos. Then Yoti called out loudly and the construct turned away from Ivory and walked quickly away to catch up to the man.

As Linna, Ottom and Sooka argued about just what the relationship between man and armiger was, and just how stupid each of the others were, Ivory watched the construct walk away.

She desperately wanted to go down there, to put her hands upon the artificial woman, to feel it beneath her hands before she peeled the armour away and took it apart to see exactly how it worked. Then she would put it back together, better.

Much better.


	4. Chapter 3: The Lost Hunters

Chapter 3: The Lost Hunters

* * *

Once, not that long before, Tolsay Mnemon had controlled an impressive criminal network. He had given it up, to an extent, but he had kept the lines of communication open. The old man, who had been young when Tolsay had first met him long before, was one of those lines. Pallot was short and ugly, with bad teeth. He laughed too easily, a braying noise, and it was obvious that his mind was going.

Tolsay did not mind, in the half remembered ramblings of past and present mixed together Pallot usually got his point across.

It was obvious that Cloud Hands did not like him, which was an unexpected bonus.

In the time since he had joined up with the Abbess, the woman's holier than thou attitude had grated on him. She was of course holier than he, or at least more orthodox, but it was the manner in which she made that point that bothered Tolsay.

The tight quarters of the Heart Spear did not help much so he was glad to be out of the ship.

Pallot shuffled across the dirty floor of the room, stepped up on a rickety ladder, and opened up a window. "Pigeons come soon, maybe" he said.

"Pigeons?" Cloud Hands asked. She was standing near the door and had not come any farther into the room.

Tolsay knelt down and picked up a half empty bottle of wine then took a drink from it. He pursed his lips at the bitter, sour alcohol, then took another drink. "Pigeons," he said, putting the bottle down. "Messages tied to their legs."

That got Cloud Hands attention, and she took a step into the room, kicking a few empty bottles, sending them skittering across the floor with a chime of glass. "Where are the messages? Surely they will be of more use than this man's ramblings."

He walked over to a small, pot bellied, iron stove and opened the door and then reached in, before bringing out a handful of burnt, blackened paper. "Got ta destroy the messages right? Information is valuable, ya?"

Cloud Hand eyes opened wide, had she still had hair it was likely her eye brows would have disappeared under her bangs. "So, it is all in that man's head."

"Don't much like the way ya say 'that man'. Pallot's a good friend."

"I'm not surprised."

Tolsay shook his head and walked over to Pallot, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Lookin' for a man, ya. Say he's pretty as any woman."

"Remember that stripper in Great Forks, the one with a dick and a slit?" Pallot asked, and then giggled. "Could both give and take with that one."

"I remember. Seem you liked it with her a lot, ya. But this one's not like that. Pretty gambler man."

"Her name was Fion, his name was Fion." Pallot's giggling grew louder.

"Ya Fion, liked you Fion did."

"The Mask of Winters bothering the Horse Lords. Got troops massing. Bad for business. No business in Thorns," Pallot said, growing serious. "Got to find out what's happening in Thorns."

Tolsay nodded. "Ya, that be good, might be opportunities there. Bit o smugglin' ya."

"Smuggling?" Cloud Hands asked, incredulous.

"Man's got to make some money, ya?"

"This is a waste of time."

"Just got to be patient." He looked to Pallot again. "Remember that card game you got in trouble with?"

Pallot nodded rapidly, a smile spreading wide across his face. "Bastard gambler, cheater!" he yelled happily, and slammed his hand against the window sill. "Cheater!"

"Ya, almost got you as a slave."

"Cheater!"

"Ya. Pulled your sorry ass out of there."

"Fion has a sweet ass," Pallot said.

"Figurin' not any more. Probably long dead of the pox."

"This is pointless," Cloud Hands snapped. "This man is useless."

"More useful than your once pretty boy Cathak with his his missing arm and that mopey Memnon pet ya got sniffin' after ya."

"Do not speak of them such!" Cloud Hand Snapped and at the same time Pallot said, "I knew a pretty Cathak girl who let me watch her fuck once."

Cloud hands stared angrily at Pallot and then told Tolsay, "They are victims of the Anathema and you will honour that."

Tolsay laughed, which set Pallot giggling and muttering. "Lots of victims of Anathema. They either die or they get over it. Think those two should be pickin' one and doin' it, ya."

"You are heartless," Cloud Hands said.

"And if ya want to wipe noses and asses then spread your legs and let someone put babies in ya and let those two alone," Tolsay told her, finding he was quite enjoying himself.

"How dare you."

"Someone had to say it. Your two pets gettin' us any information on the girl or the gambler? Figure Anzar probably more use than those two, that's sayin' a lot."

Cloud Hands stepped forward, in her anger her anima was sparking around her. "And this shell of a man is helping!?"

Tolsay figured in the next few seconds he and Cloud Hands were either going to be beating the hell out of each other, or tearing each other's clothes off and fornicating on the dirty floor with Pallot watching and no doubt giggling. At that moment he did not care which.

Then Pallot said, "Had to hire a nanny for the little girl, to wipe noses and asses."

"What?" Cloud Hands asked, her attention suddenly on the old man.

"Nanny ya," Tolsay said, "I remember you knew a fat old nanny in Marita."

"Slapped her ass and breasts to watch them shake," Pallot said giggling, then, "Nanny in Nexus and three ships, that's what the gambler got in Nexus."

"Where did they go?" Cloud Hands demanded, stomping forward, sending empty bottles flying across the floor.

Pallot sighed. "Such fat, warm skin. Pillowed my head on her breasts."

Tolsay put out his arm to bar Cloud Hands' way and shook his head. He shifted his attention back to Pallot. "Got a story 'bout the ships?"

Pallot sat down on his bed and searched through the bedding. "You had that flying ship, always thought that was pretty."

"Maybe I'll fly it to Nexus," Tolsay said, searching for a way to get Pallot back on the track that he and Cloud Hands were interested in.

"Lots of mercenaries in Nexus, being hired. Knew some pretty mercs in my day." Pallot found a bottle of wine in his bedding and drew it to his chest. "Pretty, pretty mercs." He pulled the cork from the bottle and poured the contents into his mouth.

Tolsay frowned as the old man drank deeply. "Do you know where the gambler went?" he asked, going for the straight question.

Pallot lowered the bottle, stared directly at Tolsay and said, "Only so many ways they could have gone." He then lifted the bottle and resumed drinking.

"Ya," Tolsay said, and nodded, "only so many ways ta go from Nexus. Take care Pallot." He turned from the old man.

"Wait, he hasn't told us everything he knows," Cloud Hands said.

"Probably has. Least we know to look in Nexus. Better than we did, ya?"

Cloud Hands looked back at Pallot who had finished the bottle of wine and was searching his bedding, likely for another. She shook her head and walked from the room.

Tolsay remained for a moment, then followed her out, closing the door and leaving the old man to his wine.

As they walked down the stairs of the large house, towards the ground floor, Cloud Hands said, "I'll go and let the others know we are heading to Nexus." Her tone was brisk.

"Ya, I'll see you at the ship."

She looked back at him, as if she were about to say something, but she only nodded.

Tolsay watched Cloud Hands leave the house. Once she was gone he continued towards the kitchen.

Within he found the lady of the house, a woman named Biipa Niss; a tall woman with dark hair and dark skin. Pretty enough, rounded limbs and a bit of a belly, probably from the kids she had had.

Tolsay had never met her before that day, but he had been sending her family money for almost thirty years.

There was a cook and a maid in the kitchen as well, working at preparing the evening meal.

"Mr. Tolsay," Biipa said, "please, let me say again how glad I am to see you." She bowed. The maid and the cook bowed as well, much lower than their mistress.

"Ya, sure you are. You two, get out," he said to the maid and cook.

The two servants quickly left.

Biipa remained, looking nervous, but also expectant. Tolsay walked up to her, stopped only a step away from her. He looked down at her, then reached under his coat and removed a heavy bag that chimed with the sound of metal.

Biipa looked expectant.

He held out the bag.

She reached up to take it.

He smiled at her.

She smiled back as she took the bag firmly in her hands.

Tolsay back handed her hard enough to knock her to the ground.

Biipa cried out in surprise and pain.

He dropped down into a crouch and grasped the fallen woman around the throat, the bag hitting the floor and the silver spilling out.

"Pallot's room is filthy, the wine you buy him is piss, he looks like he hasn't eaten a good meal in months."

"I, I do my best..." Biipa sputtered.

"Shut up and listen." Tolsay gave the woman's neck a squeeze to reinforce his words. "You thinking been a long time since I was last here, ya? Thinkin' maybe time to get rid of the old man? Maybe thinkin' next time I inquire you tell me old man just died? Thinkin' just to keep the money?"

She shook her head.

"Liar," he said, and banged her head against the floor. "Your mother, she was a sharp one. Got this big house and good life, just for keeping Pallot comfortable so he could work." He grasped her by her shoulders and lifted her up onto her knees. "You're goin' to be smart from now on. Clean that room every day, good wine, fresh linen, and make sure he eats."

She nodded. "I will. I promise." She was shaking in his hands, terrified.

"Good." Tolsay said, and reached into his pocket and removed a small piece of smooth jade. He held it up in front of her, watch her eyes light up. He smiled and said, "Open your mouth."

Biipa looked confused.

He grabbed her chin in his free hand, squeezed, and said, "Open your mouth bitch."

She did so.

He put the jade onto her tongue and then pushed her mouth closed. "Now swallow it."

She shook her head as much as she was able with him holding her chin.

"You can swallow it with or without swallowing your teeth," he told her, his voice level. "Your choice."

Fear in her eyes, she worked her throat, trembling, as she swallowed the jade.

Tolsay pushed her away as he straightened up to stand above her. "Jade's not sharp, probably pass through easy, ya. When your combin' through your shit, lookin' for it, you remember that ya. You cross me you, your children, their children for three generations be looking through people's leavings to make their way. Understand, ya?"

Fearfully she nodded.

"Keep that old man happy, when he dies naturally you be sure to send him to Sijan." He turned and walked away. "Just do that," he said without looking back, "and you'll do alright."

He left the large, well appointed house that he had basically bought for Biipa's family. Turning to look at it, thinking of the small, dirty room that Pallot occupied, he suddenly felt like going in and laying a serious beating on Biipa, none of that gentle stuff he had engaged just in.

He took a deep breath and turned away. No time to do it all properly, best leave it undone.

Leaving the grounds he stepped through the gate onto one of four main streets of Fudai-just another city in the Scavenger Lands, about halfway between Great Forks and Melevhil. A good place for pigeons to come. A good place for an old man to retire.

An old mortal at least, Tolsay thought.

He set off down the street, whistling through his teeth as he navigated the late afternoon crowds.


	5. Chapter 4: The Horse Trader and the

Chapter 4: The Horse Trader and the Gambler

* * *

In Lookshy's Aviary was a stone called the Gem of the Wind's Secrets. With that gem Lookshy was aware of anything that flew within one hundred miles of the city.

Sparrow had been aware of that. One could not fly along the coast of the inner sea and not know that Lookshy knew everything that flew in their airspace. A smart ship's captain paid for some information and put a few things together. If you were carrying cargo that Lookshy might disapprove of, you stayed at least a hundred miles away from the city.

Sparrow was pretty certain that a pair of Anathema would be something that Lookshy disapproved of.

However she had not been longer piloting a Halsanti flying boat, but instead she had flown a first age ship that had been designed to foil such detection. And, for that key hundred miles, she had flown the Blade along the river, only a few feet above the water.

She felt very certain that no one in Lookshy was aware of the airship that was currently hidden in a ravine, some ten or so miles away.

What she was not so certain of was walking into the city through its main gates.

Lightning has assured her that everything would be okay. 'I have contacts here,' she had told the worried Sparrow. 'Just a useful horse trader, been working with the legion for a few years. Relax.'

Sparrow supposed that Lightning was right, but she could not shake off the very small worry that she was being led into a trap. So desperately she wanted to trust Lightning she hated herself for that feeling, but could not completely chase it away.

Perhaps it was the woefully inefficient arms and armour she carried into this city of Dragon-Bloods. No orichalcium, no artifact weapon of any sort; just a buff jacket over her shoulders and a curved sword at her side. She watched Lightning up ahead of her, moving with an easy gait as she paced the bored, low-ranking nitei who had been assigned to escort them through the city.

Lightning did not look concerned about having left her panoply of moonsilver behind. Of course, she had her tattoo weapons that could never be surrendered, and what did weapons mean to a woman who might sprout armour plates and scythe like claws at will. Had Lightning betrayed her unknowingly, forgetting that her Solar companion could not simply alter her form to best fit the situation?

Stop it Sparrow, she told herself, her body tensing with the force of the self reproach, nearly tripping as her foot came down poorly upon the road. Stop being so afraid. You are not helpless. Your weapons do not define you.

It made her feel a little better.

Lightning looked back at her from where she walked beside the soldier. She smiled and then returned her attention to the soldier, who was in the process of complaining about military life. Lightning said all the right things and the solider spoke freely.

Pity he did not likely know anything of real importance.

They walked along a street, lined on either side with barracks. The setting sun was low in the sky, Sparrow's shadow stretched long in front of her. A squad of soldiers, infantry outfitted in reinforced breastplates, carrying long spears, marched by, hard heels of leather boots tromping out the cadence. Sparrow shifted to the side as they passed, watching as they went. They were well trained, she thought, with memories and opinions that were not quite hers. Or memories and opinions that not been hers before she had been thrown from her airship.

The soldiers passed and Sparrow sped up, lengthening her steps so she did not fall behind.

The nature of the buildings changed, the barracks getting larger, with more space between them, forming large training areas in which horses could be ridden. The soldier who led them was not overly impressed with the cavalry and said as much, though in hushed tones, to Lightning.

They reached their destination, a huge stable close to one of Lookshy's interior battlements. It was built of stone, several stories tall, with several large paddocks around it.

Their escort spoke to one of the sentries, looking over his shoulder and pointing at Lightning and Sparrow, relaying the story that Lightning had told at the gates.

The sentry remained at his post, but called a young man, a boy really, over to him and then sent him off with the message.

Lightning moved towards the split rail fence of the paddock and stood upon the lower rail, looking on as men and women worked with the horses there. Sparrow walked over to where Lightning stood and leaned against the fence, trying to look bored.

It was not long, no more than a few minutes, before a large man came out of the stables at a quick walk, limping slightly. He wore a cavalry uniform, and the actions of the soldiers made Sparrow pretty certain he was the ranking man there; though she was almost certain he was not blooded.

"You horse trading bitch," he said with a laugh as he stomped towards Lightning. Large, broad across the shoulder, but of average height, he looked stocky, but that was something of an illusion. He had short cropped blonde hair, and wore a neatly trimmed beard. A man in his middle years. "What in the cursed wyld are you doing here? Last I heard that old foot slogger Pardue said you had taken off in the middle of the job?"

"Hey," Lightning said, moving towards the man at a quick walk, "I gave Pardue plenty of advice, and it's not like the Marukans are gonna rip you off."

He nodded, almost smiling. "What sent you running off?"

"Family business," she told him.

He nodded, and that time really smiled. It was, Sparrow thought, an answer he approved of.

"So, what brings your sorry self to the finest city in Creation?"

Lightning smiled and looked about, as if she were about to question his assertion, but instead laughed. "I'm tapped out. Last time you said if I was in the area to stop by. You'd treat me to dinner." She shook her head and smirked. "Damn if I don't need some dinner."

"I can probably get you dinner." He looked at the soldier who had led them up there. "Head back to the gates. Tell them that these two are okay."

The nitei saluted and then turned and set off back the way he had come.

"Come on," he said to Lightning, and started back into the stables.

Lightning nodded to Sparrow and then followed after him. Sparrow stood where she was for a moment, then moved after Lightning.

The interior was a wide, open area, full of hundreds of horses. Fans spun to pull fresh air into the room, and all around her were young soldiers, cleaning up after the horses, sweeping up soiled hay and then carting it out. Everyone was busy, between caring for the building or the horses. Lightning had caught up to the man and they talked about the animals as they walked along the clear, central corridor.

Even with the fans and the constant work, the scents in the room were heavy with animal and the sickly sweet underlay of animal waste. Sparrow supposed that anyone who worked there was used to it, and she knew she was somewhat more sensitive to such smells than others. She had grown up in the cold north, and much of that time had been on the decks of airships where the air was almost always fresh and frigid.

"So," the man asked as they started up a ramp to the second floor, "who's your friend?" he asked Lightning and looked back at Sparrow.

"That's Sparrow. Sparrow, this is Chuzei Keike Horata."

Keike had stopped on the ramp as he looked back at Sparrow. "Don't recall you having a partner before."

"Sparrow's my muscle." Lightning smiled.

"You're the muscle?" he asked Sparrow.

Sparrow nodded and then said, "I lull them in a sense of security and then kick them between the legs when they aren't expecting it."

Keike smiled and then laughed loudly. Some of the horses and men in the area below them looked up at the laughing man, but the soldiers went back to work and the horses back to whatever they had been doing.

"Come on," Keike said, and continued up to the second floor.

The second floor was a stable like the lower one, but the stalls were much larger, and held horses of obvious quality, as well as other steeds. They walked by a line of Simhata in their large stalls and while Keike and Lightning discussed the quality of the yearlings on the Marukan plains the lion horses seemed to regard Sparrow with a look of both curiosity and intelligence, and in some cases hostility.

They left the Simhata behind and climbed a set of stairs to the third level. There were no stables there, just rooms; offices and barracks. Keike brought them to his office, a large room with a window that looked out over the paddock below.

"Want something to drink?" Keike asked.

"Sure. Whatever you have," Lightning said.

"Nothing for me," Sparrow said as she stepped up to a cabinet, looking at the contents within. The shelves were covered by small, framed paintings of horses. She looked back towards Keike. "Mind if I smoke?"

Keike was opening a liquor cabinet. "Just as long as you don't take anything lit outside the office. Against regs." He removed a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses from the cabinet and then placed them on his desk. "Have a seat, we can talk."

"Thanks," Lightning said as she sprawled into one of the seats. As Keike filled the two glasses Sparrow took a seat beside Lightning and brought out her rolling papers and a leather bag filled with finely shredded marijuana leaf.

"So," Keike said, placing a half filled glass in front of Lightning, "what are you looking for other than a free meal?"

Lightning took the glass and sipped at the contents. She smiled and licked her lips. "That goes down well. As for what I am looking for," she took another sip from the glass, "well, the family business left me mostly tapped out, like I said. Looking for work really. Figured the Legion might need my expertise."

He leaned back in his chair. "Nothing really close by, nothing that we'd hire a civilian for. If you want to join up we could use someone like you."

Lightning shook her head. "Thanks, but no. Being sent off to serve in one the foreign legions does not appeal."

"Figured as much. The cost to get you Marukan would probably require a contract, set length of service."

"Not good either."

Sparrow had poured a small measure of the leaf into the paper and was starting to roll it up, careful, precise movements, folding and spooling.

"Probably can't get you anything with the Legion then."

"Any civilian work? Maybe a letter of recommendation I can present to some trader or scavenger lord?"

"Yeah, that probably could work. Would like to see you heading somewhere you might be of benefit to Lookshy."

"As long as it pays fairly well I don't care much where it finally drops me. Don't mind working for the Legion as a free contractor."

Sparrow said nothing, appearing as if she was concentrating on her cigarette, however she was listening closely. Lightning had told Sparrow she was fairly certain that Keike would take the conversation where they needed it to go; and Lightning would prod it if needed.

"There is something," Keike said, and then took a drink from his glass. "You much good on ships?"

"Not bad, Sparrow is better."

"Well then, we got three ships down in the harbour, bit light on crew."

"What? Arrests? Plague? I'm not shipping out with anything like that."

That was well played, Sparrow thought.

"Nothing like that," Keike said reassuringly. "Captain sailed in a few weeks back, off loaded a lot of well timed cargo, and has been waiting since for a number of special orders. Was a topic of conversation for a few days. Some of his crew hired on with other ships since then. Few probably got arrested. Sailors tend to get in trouble if they don't have something useful to occupy them." He took another drink from his glass. "Unlike soldiers."

Lightning smiled and then asked, "What's a well timed cargo?"

"Most of his cargo was things the Legion needed, needed more of. Specialty stuff, high cost, the things most merchants won't touch in large numbers in case the market were to suddenly dry up."

"Oh, and that's not suspicious," Lightning said before taking another drink.

"Of course it is bloody suspicious," Keike told her, and moved the bottle closer to her side of the desk, "and apparently this Heron is being watched, but what we might be dealing with," and he smiled at Lightning, "is one of those useful people, like you."

Lightning laughed as she reached for the bottle and topped up her glass. "People you can use but who won't enlist."

"No apologies from me."

"Wouldn't expect any. So, this guy is either a solid merchant who wants to give the Legion a bit of help, or he's got some underhanded plan going on." She leaned back in the chair, balancing her glass on her knee.

"Something like that."

Lightning pursed her lips and shifted forward, the liquid in the glass on her knee hardly rippling, and looked at Keike. "And maybe you put me on one of his ships I can help you find out which it is."

Keiki actually looked surprised for a moment, and then a thoughtful look passed across his face which was gone almost before she saw it. "Well, that could be of use." He smiled.

Bastard, Sparrow thought without rancour, impressed with the way that Lightning had played the man; And without using any of her powers, unless Sparrow was much mistaken. She put the rolled cigarette in her mouth, drew it back out across her tongue, a tiny bit of moisture to seal everything.

"And there would be some sort of monetary remuneration?"

"I'm sure that could be arranged. Of course this is tentative."

Tentative until he could suggest the idea to his superiors Sparrow thought as she took a pack of matches from her pocket.

"What do you say I take you to my mess and we can talk a little more over dinner," Keike said.

"I say I hope your mess has some good food and lots of it," Lightning told him as she took her glass and gulped back its contents. "Let's go."

Sparrow who had just lit her cigarette looked at Lightning as she shook out her match. "What, now?"

Lighting smiled and reached down to take the cigarette from Sparrow fingers. She crushed the ember out between thumb and forefinger. "For after dinner," she said with a smile as she tucked it away into her shirt pocket.

"Dinner better be good," Sparrow mumbled.

* * *

When gambling, there were rules, if they could be called that, which Heron tended to follow. Not the rules by which the specific game was played, how one card was worth more than another, how one die roll won and another lost. The rules were how one played in a given circumstance.

One of those rules that he kept in mind was 'when gambling with soldiers it is best not to win'. Really, it was any group in which he was the single outsider. He did not care for having a group of likeminded people turn on him. And soldiers had weapons and knew how to fight.

It was actually something of an acceptable challenge, to come out even at the end of the night and not to let anyone know he was throwing the game.

Heron shuffled the cards, his hands quick, interlacing the one hundred and eight cards. Finally he placed the deck on the table and tapped it. "Cut," he said, looking at the woman across from him.

Namiko Teresu, the only blooded in the group, and the one most likely spying on him, reached out and removed the top half of the deck and put it down beside the bottom half.

Heron reached out, grasped both desks, fanned them together, and then began to deal. Two cards face down to each player, two cards face up. The deck went back into the middle of the table and he flipped over the top card and put it on the table.

Ima Katame, the man to Heron's left tossed three chips onto the table, starting the bidding.

The game, called Terrain, was played quickly. Winning hands were built with ten cards. Cards were won by highest bid of the chips. Those became the pot. The winner, the one with the best ten card hand, took the pot. It was not, Heron thought as he threw in ten chips, just getting the cards you needed, but denying the same to your opponents.

One had to think fast, players were given little time to make a decision on whether to bid or stop. As soon as one hand was claimed another was flipped. Until the hand was won the only sound was that of the chips clattering against each other.

Heron won the first hand, dragging the large pile of chips across the table towards himself. Each chip had a minuscule monetary value, and even with the huge amount of them in the pot the game was played for very low stakes.

Noba Rashamon laughed, always a good loser, the first few times. Heron did not plan to win the next hand. Better let someone else become the focus of Noba when he stopped being so friendly.

"So," Namiko said as Ima shuffled the cards, "looks like you will be leaving us soon." She smiled.

"Looks like it," Heron said, leaning back in his chair. Under the table Namiko's bare foot was gently stoking his leg. "Everything is almost ready to go. Few days time and you won't be able to take any more of my money."

"I always got the feeling you tended to break even each night," Rikami Teresu said. She was an older woman, with steel gray hair and a face lined with fine wrinkles; Namiko's younger sister - not that she looked younger than her blooded sister.

Heron only smiled.

"Where are you going next?" Namiko asked.

"Only so many ways I can go on a river. I was planning on heading back up to Nexus. From there," he waved his hand in the air dismissively, "who knows?"

"Maybe come back here?" Namiko asked as her foot moved all the way up to his knee.

"Possibly, if I get the right cargo."

"I've been thinking," she said as Ima finished shuffling, "that you might want to set up here."

Ima put the deck on the table and said to Noba, "Cut."

And with Namiko's offer hanging in the air and her toes gently gripping the material of his hakama, the game started again, chips flying.

When the hand ended, with Rikami taking the pot, Heron asked, "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that the Legion could use a man like you, the sort who looks like he can get things, the sort of man who can go places and learn things."

"So I would be a spy?"

"Of course not," Namiko said. "You're not the type to be a spy. Too flashy. However, you're the sort who is just going to learn things."

Heron picked up a handful of chips and let them spill from his hand to the table. "Not really sure," he said, though in truth he was seeing many benefits in what she was proposing. It would give he and Ivory more time to find out which the artifacts represented a threat.

"Consider it. Your daughter could stay here. It would give her a more stable place to grow up,. That little hellion of yours needs some stability. don't you think?"

And it would give Lookshy a hostage in case they needed one, he thought. "Hellion? Surely she is no more worse that those children she plays with?"

Namiko smiled. "I suppose. So, does it interest you?"

"Perhaps," he said.

"Think about it," she told him, her foot beneath the table against his leg a silent promise of other benefits he might enjoy.

Then the next hand began.


	6. Chapter 5: Death Comes to Lookshy

Chapter 5: Death Comes to Lookshy

* * *

Hidden in the darkness of night, in the even darker shadow under the eaves of the building, Nihilistic Courtesan crouched, in her hand her bow of soul steel. Around her was the city of Lookshy, darkened, but not asleep. Sentries walked their posts, soldiers visited bars and bathhouses after a long day of work, visitors socialized. Far from asleep, but more to her liking than at day.

She had entered the city unseen, unheard, and so far the only evidence of her presence was a single dead body. She had hidden her unwilling informant's corpse well and was confident she had many hours before anyone might miss the woman

Below her were a number of guest houses, gathered together to make watching the occupants that much easier. She watched one of the larger houses, as lights came on and went off, as people passed by windows, their silhouettes cast as shadows against the paper screens.

So far she had not seen the small form of a child pass by. Already in bed, she supposed.

After a moment she slipped from the deep shadow, into lesser darkness of the night time city. Moving quickly, but silently, she dashed across the tiled roof and leapt out, between buildings, landing with nothing but a soft whisper on the roof tiles of another building.

There were not too many rooms that could be for sleeping in that guest house, she thought. And the movements she had observed told her much. Darkness oozed across her eyes, swallowing the iris and white until only black remained. No longer would the darkness hide anything from her. A moment later her eyes glowed with an unholy light that lit up her beautiful face into a terrifying mask.

Distance and obstacles now meant little to her, and she stared down at the child as if she stood beside her. The girl, unknowing of her doom, was working on some mechanical object, the parts spread out around her, the goggles she wore no doubt allowed her to do the work in the dark.

That it was just a child, safe in her bed, did not stay Courtesan's hand, and she smoothly drew an arrow from the quiver at her side and put it to the bow string.

Before she could pull back something heavy and fast slammed into her, driving her off the roof into the open air.

The tiger, she thought, twisting her head to keep massive jaws from clamping down on her throat. Damn.

Then she hit the ground, hundreds of pounds of tiger coming down on top of her.

She was exalted however, and while pained, she was not out of the fight. Twisting away from slashing claws and snapping jaws, leaving tatters of her clothing behind, questing hands found her bow and in a moment had an arrow ready to go.

However the tiger was gone when she released, and the deadly arrow only cut through open air before burring itself a hand span deep into a wood wall.

It had all happened in seconds, and it had been nearly silent.

Courtesan ran towards the house, nocking another arrow.

* * *

Ivory had been working on a clock work compass, an idea she had come up with from examining the workings of the watch. The parts of her compass were spread out in front of her, each a fine piece of steel, all of them slipping together into a neat whole.

She paused, suddenly possessed of a sense that someone was watching. She looked about quickly, the room as bright as day while she wore her light amplifying goggles. Had that old harridan Alicia managed to sneak into the room? No. She was alone.

Or she was until Hu suddenly stepped over her, appearing out of nowhere as he often did. "We must go," he told her.

No questions, Ivory rolled from her futon, moving quickly. She had a bag ready, with everything she needed for a quick escape. Dressed only in a light, cotton sleeping kimono, her bag over her shoulder, it contents muffled in cloth, she followed Hu from the room, moving in a low crouch.

"I need to grab the notes," she said softly, her tone pitched to carry no farther than Hu.

The tiger did not respond and Ivory ducked into the empty room, between her and Heron's bedrooms, where the notes on all they had found out were hidden.

* * *

Courtesan slid the door open, stepping into the house, her bow ready.

There were noises of people within, but her gaze swept through house, peering through walls, finding girl and tiger. The girl knelt down in one of the rooms, her hands working on the wall.

Courtesan moved forward, quickly, certainly.

"Who in the yozi's hells are you?" someone demanded.

Courtesan cursed herself and her Neverborn masters whose constant whispers had distracted her.

The young woman who had surprised her wore a simple kimono, and looked like a servant, but she moved forward like a fighter, snapping out a backhand strike that Courtesan had to dodge back to avoid. She felt a fine spray of water cross her face from the woman's anima banner.

Dragon Blood, she thought, lifting her bow and firing.

The woman snatched the arrow from the air, but was a fraction of a second to slow. While she had grasped the arrow shaft the steel arrow head pierced her shoulder.

She cried out softly as the arrow suddenly twisted in her hands, trying to crawl deeper into the wound. Focused on that as she was, she was not fast enough to counter Courtesan's second shot. That took her in the throat, silencing her.

Leaving the woman to die courtesan turned to find the girl and the tiger had already left the house and were running off down a street.

She stifled a curse and started running. She could not afford to let the girl get too far away. There were enough wards in the city of Lookshy that the girl might lose herself amongst them if Courtesan did not quickly catch up.

* * *

Dreaming Blue knelt down by Pira's freshly dead body, her fingers gently brushing the feathers on the black shafts. She had dropped the guise of Nitin Biwa, for he had no place at the site of murder. Frowning she grasped the arrow that had pierced the woman's shoulder and pulled.

The arrow resisted and twisted in her hand, actually sinking deeper into the wound.

She stood and ran for the room's exit, tripping once and knocking over a small table.

An older woman with short hair stepped out a connecting room, stopping as she saw what was there. She started to scream.

"Oh, by all the gods," Dreaming Blue said in exasperation as she got her feet straightened beneath her, and continued without further acknowledging the woman.

Ivory Peleps was in danger, and Dreaming Blue could not afford to have the girl die, not until she had retrieved the Orrery.

* * *

Ivory had learned layout of many parts of Lookshy well. She knew the pathways of the children, those areas often too small for the adults.

She had also learned what buildings were warded, having picked up on that as she had run the city with her companions. Being certain that she was somehow being scryed upon she had run to those areas, using them in the hopes of losing her attacker.

Hu thought they were still being followed and urged her to move quickly. Ivory took the time, in the shadow of a warded building, to put on her breastplate and make her swords ready. Being discovered with the orichalcium arms and armour would not be to the best in the city, but she felt better being ready to fight.

She pulled her cloak about her shoulders, hoping it would help to hide her and what she carried.

"Hurry," Hu urged.

Ivory nodded and dashed across a road and jumped down into a dry, drainage trench, ducking low and slipping under the road.

* * *

Lightning was taking a large chance, for she had put her connection with Lookshy in real danger.

She had convinced Keike that the smart thing to do was to introduce her to Heron that evening. 'He's gambling right? I lose a little money to him, maybe suggest that he take me on so I can pay it back.' It was a weak argument, but she could be convincing when the situation needed it.

However that meant if anyone looked too closely at the events of that evening they were going to wonder why Keike, a level headed soldier, had done something rather unwise.

She could only hope that no one would look too close.

It was a faint hope that made her feel pretty stupid. She could only trust that this Heron was worth it; that Sparrow would think so.

* * *

Sparrow did not know what to feel.

Or she knew what she wanted to feel. She wanted to feel hopeful, to feel that she was about to meet someone who was like her, more so than even Lightning. Someone with whom she might feel safe with.

And that was it.

She wanted to believe that she could feel completely at ease around another Solar.

Perhaps she needed to believe it.

And now she was suddenly afraid. Afraid of what this Heron might be, what he might do.

He could be worse than Redigost.

Well, that was not too likely, but still... She had been putting a lot on finding Heron, though she had only recently learned of his existence. Now that she was close to meeting him she was starting to get worried.

She listened to Keike and Lightning talking about horses, Lightning apparently at ease. She took a deep breath and told herself to relax.

No matter what happened she would manage to succeed.

* * *

Ivory stared across the open space, the neatly arranged garden, the hundred feet between her and the house within which she would find Heron.

What to say when she found him, she wondered, reaching out to pet Hu, taking confidence in his presence. Perhaps she might say that she had a bad dream? Would that be believable? A young girl running across the night time city to tell her father she had had a nightmare?

It seemed, well, somewhat unlikely. Nightmare had sent her crying to fine her nurse, but that woman had only been a room away.

Perhaps she could claim her nanny was being mean, she had run away to find her father. She could see that, though it would make her seem somewhat of a whiny little brat.

At least it would give Heron an excuse to leave, so as to take her home.

Then she could tell him what happened and they could come up with a plan.

"Let's go Hu," she said, and she moved from the shadowy cover and dashed across the open space.

* * *

Courtesan perched on the edge of a battlement, looking down into the section of the city. The girl was down there. She was sure of it.

Close.

She drew the arrow back, holding the soul steel bow perfectly steady as she waited.

And then she saw movement.

There was no thought.

She simply released the arrow.

* * *

Perhaps Ivory spotted something, a flash of light off metal, or perhaps she heard something, the whisper of fletching in air. Maybe it was something else. Or maybe she was completely unaware but just lucky. She could never recall, but she had turned slightly, just before the arrow had hit.

It was as if someone had kicked her hard in the right side of her chest, but then it was as if a sliver of ice slid into her shoulder and she felt her right arm go numb.

The night was split by Hu's roar, and she felt his powerful jaws close gently over her left shoulder. Then, like a kitten carried by its mother, Hu was bearing her away.

* * *

"Little slut," Courtesan cursed loudly, firing arrow after arrow at the fleeing Tiger and the girl it carried, but the animal's path was too erratic, and as soon as it slid into the shadow it was gone from sight, even to her essence enhanced sight.

She yelled loudly and leapt down from her perch, whispers in her mind driving her on.

She needed to see that girl's life blood spilling from her.

* * *

Heron dropped his cards when he heard the roar. He knew, knew with certainty, that it was Hu. As he leapt from his chair, knocking it over, he noticed that he was not the only one. They were a few moments behind him, but the soldiers he had been gaming with were up and getting weapons ready.

Namiko almost matched him stride for stride as they exited the room, their bare feet pounding on hardwood floors as they ran for the doorway.

* * *

Lightning did not doubt that the roar that echoed off the high battlements was a portent of things going wrong. She looked over at Sparrow and saw that she had recognized it too.

"Let's go," she said, taking off at a sprint.

There was something in the night, she realized, some feeling that was almost familiar, almost pulling at her.

It made her growl deep in her chest, and she had to fight the urge to take her deadly war form. Even so small arcs of electricity danced around her lower arms.

* * *

Sparrow feared that the roar was that of Redigost, that he had come to destroy her attempt to find something she could trust in.

It was ridiculous to fear such a thing, but she could not help it.

The Lunar had stained her soul.

Spitting out a curse she drew her blade and charged after Lightning, Keike not that far behind her.

* * *

Ivory was in the dark.

She did not know where she was, just that she was not where she had been. She could feel the wards around her and supposed she was safe for the moment.

The arrow in her chest wormed it way deeper into the wound.

She gasped and cried out in pain.

Perhaps she called out for her mother, she could never be sure.

Then Hu moved close to her, she could sense his bulk, feel his fur on her face, smell his breath.

His jaws clamped around the shaft of the arrow.

The huge muscles in his neck flexed.

He pulled the arrow from her body.

Ivory screamed and then passed out.

* * *

Casting about, Courtesan stopped, cocking her head. Had she heard a scream? The high pitched wail of a child?

Where had it come from?

Then there was the bang of a door opening, echoing in the space, overwhelming the last traces of the scream, denying her the chance to orientate on it.

She cursed yet again, turned towards the intruding noise.

From a house two figures ran, one carrying a jade daiklaive, behind those two came more, soldiers, armed in various ways.

"Who are you? Drop the bow," the woman with the daiklaive demanded.

"Shut up!" Courtesan spun about, blood running down from the bruised caste mark on her forehead, and fired a spray of arrows at the newcomers.

Most were killed by that volley, Lookshy mortal soldiers, falling to the inhuman precision of her fire, dead with an arrow embedded in a throat, an eye, or through the ribs and into the heart.

The woman with the daiklaive took an arrow in the shoulder, having deflected it with her weapon's blade. Another, who Courtesan assumed a woman, having not seen Heron close up, snapped the arrow away with an almost careless flick of the hand and some innocuous object.

That act caught Courtesan's attention, and she looked towards the woman, no, beautiful man. He was the most dangerous threat.

Of course the Dragon Blood, with her daiklaive, charging towards her could not be ignored.

Leaping backwards she sent arrows speeding at both targets, at the same time scanning about for any sign of the girl.

* * *

Heron used the closed fan to parry the arrows the woman sent towards him, watched as Namiko attacked the woman, trying to hit the elusive Death Knight, for Heron had no doubt that was what she was. He was fairly certain that she had been at Mount Metagalpa, for he remembered the deadly arrows that had taken the lives of many hawk riders.

His attention was just focused enough on the death knight to ensure he was not hit by an arrow. He was truly searching for signs of Ivory and Hu. He realized that the Death Knight was as well. It had to be one of the reasons that Namiko still lived.

Had she followed him and Ivory all the way from the mountain? It was not, he thought, leaping back and knocking aside another arrow, all that surprising. Ivory had, more than he, been instrumental in stopping the plan that would have seen that mountain dropped onto Greyfalls.

Namiko was hit by another arrow, that one sinking into her thigh. She dropped to one knee, unsteady, vulnerable.

Heron reached into his kimono and removed the hilt of his beamklaive, leaping forward, putting himself between Namiko and the Death Knight; he cut an arrow in half and then charged the small woman with blonde hair and the bow of soul steel. It was an obvious declaration that he was exalted, and the sun light blade of his beamklaive an indication of type. And saving Namiko meant he would have to flee Lookshy.

He accepted that.

He liked Namiko.

And she played cards well.

* * *

Hu had placed a paw over the wound in Ivory's shoulder, pressing down on it to apply pressure. There were, after all, so few things a tiger might do in that kind of situation. He turned his massive head as he caught a familiar scent and growled deeply as he heard the sound of a foot scuffing across the floor of the darkened chamber.

"Stand down Kage Hu," Dreaming Blue said, a glow that lit the room appearing from her hands. "If I wanted the girl dead I would just leave her to your feeble attempts at first aid." She knelt down and placed a glowing globe on the floor and then straightened, continuing to walk toward where Hu stood sentinel over Ivory. "You are a killer, not a healer." She stood over him. "And I need this girl alive."

Hu barred his fangs as he met Dreaming Blue's gaze.

The Sidereal did not flinch.

He moved back from Ivory.

Dreaming Blue knelt down and began examining her, working to free the cloak from around her, she had to pull hard at the material as it had become tightly tangled around Ivory. She then released the catches on Ivory's armour and pulled it aside.

"Already stopped bleeding," she stated and reached into her kimono to draw forth a large handkerchief that she put over the wound. Then she tore strips from her clothing to bind the makeshift bandage.

"We had best go," she told Hu, as she fastened Ivory's armour back in place and then wrapped the cloak around her.

Hu growled as he moved close.

She looked at him crossly. "I told you that I need her alive. There is a Death Knight nearby who wants to kill her. We had best go."

Hu stopped growling.

Dreaming Blue went and grabbed her light globe before returning to scoop up Ivory in her arms.

"Follow me," she told Hu, and then set off.

He took a moment to grab up Ivory's bag between his teeth before following. He looked back, to where he knew the Death Knight was. He did not trust Dreaming Blue, but at the moment she offered Ivory's best chance.

* * *

In the mad dash run towards the sound Sparrow had lost sight of Lightning. She supposed she was close by, perhaps in one of her animal forms. She came out from between buildings, into a park like area, running full out, sword held ready.

A woman with a blade of golden light fought a woman with a black bow.

A woman surrounded by her anima of spinning leaves and green vapours knelt on the ground, holding herself up with her daiklaive, several arrows piercing her body, beneath her a growing puddle of blood.

Dead bodies sprawled in the front entrance and on the steps of a house, arrows in various vital spots.

Her attention focused on the woman with the blade of light. No, not a woman, a man beautiful enough to be a woman. There was something about him, something that felt oddly familiar, like with Redigost, but not quite.

The woman with a bow, blood running down her face had an unmistakable aura around her.

Too much like Cold Rain

She sprinted towards the battling pair.

* * *

Courtesan did not know where the woman charging her had come from, nor did she really care. She flipped backwards, skirts and petticoats blooming around her waist, to avoid a slash of the beamklaive, sent three arrows speeding towards gambler and then one at the charging woman.

If the woman had simply parried the arrow Courtesan would not really have given it that much attention. It had been an offhand shot after all. If she had even caught the projectile it would have hardly mattered.

What she did do attracted Courtesan's attention, and the attention paid to it saved her.

The woman lifted her hand so the arrow struck her palm.

The shaft flexed and then snapped, as if it had hit a wall of stone or steel.

With a snap of her hand the woman sent the arrow head speeding back at Courtesan.

Courtesan jerked her head to the side.

One of her blonde ringlets fell to the ground.

To the Yozi hells with this, she thought, and fired a spray of arrows at both gambler and woman before turning to flee.

And as she ran another figure appeared.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair, her face marked with silver tattoos, the significance of which Courtesan knew all too well.

I'm well and truly dead, she thought.

But the Lunar did not attack her.

No, there was something in her eyes. Shock? Fear? Courtesan did not know. She did not care.

She leapt up, the sole of her shoe coming to rest on the Lunar's shoulder before she sprang again, launching herself high into the air, over the roof tops of buildings.

Turning in the air she let loose with another spread of arrows, just to put off any attempt at pursuit.

The whispers in her head were urging her to seek out the girl, but at the moment Courtesan was having a very easy time ignoring them.

* * *

There was a scent of funerary spices, faint, as well as a hint of perfume, some floral scent that danced just beyond reach like a childhood memory. And soap; the clean smell of soap. This occurred to Lightning as petticoats ruffled above her head, as she felt a hard soled shoe come down on her shoulder, and then push off, with enough force to almost make her knees buckle.

She looked up, catching a flash of bare legs, the stark white of underskirts and ruffled bloomers. A moment later there was a hiss of arrows, but Lightning watched as the woman disappeared over one of the buildings.

She reached up and put her hand over her chest. Her heart, why was it beating so fast? Could it... No. She shook her head. No.

Not too far away Sparrow and the man called Heron stood. Having avoided the final volley of arrows they now stared at each other, not saying anything.

Of course, Lightning thought. It would have to be that.

She walked towards them, then stopped as she passed near where the death knight had stood but a few moments before. She knelt down and picked up a blonde ringlet, the hair soft in her palm. For a moment she wanted to smell it, but instead closed her fingers over it with enough force that the tendons and sinews in her hand creaked.

"You should introduce yourself," Lightning called to Sparrow as she walked towards her.

Sparrow looked surprised and looked away from Heron. "I," she said, then paused. "It's like I know him."

"Yes," Heron said, "it is like we do. Why is that?" He still held his beamklaive, the weapon's essence blade still lit. "Who are you?"

"I'm like you," Sparrow said, as she took several steps towards Heron. On her forehead her caste mark glittered. "How do I know you?"

Heron looked at Sparrow, and then at Lightning. "And you?"

"I am not like you two," Lightning told him, "but I'm an ally. A potential ally at least. Sparrow is my friend."

"Sparrow?" he looked back towards her, the blade of his beamklaive extinguished.

Sparrow nodded. "Sparrow Hawk. And you're Heron. I've heard your name. How do I know you?"

"It is complicated," Lightning said, looking about. The wounded terrestrial was watching, but likely too far away to hear much. She heard Keike coming, calling out. His bad leg would have slowed him some. "And it is simple. Long ago, those that held the power you now do swore oaths of comradeship. Your shards recognize that oath. The accepted wisdom among my kind is to simply accept it, unless you really have reason to hate each other. We really should go now."

"Yes," Sparrow said, looking around. "This is not a good place to be, and will get worse the more people come."

"I need to find my companion," Heron said, his tone such that he would brook no argument.

Sparrow nodded, as did Lightning. After all, they had come seeking two Solars.

"She was close by," Heron told them. "I heard Hu roar." He looked about, obviously searching for some sign of his companion.

"Hu?" Lightning asked.

"Her tiger."

"She has a tiger? Would it be with her?"

"As far as I can tell," Heron told her, "the only thing that would keep him from her side would be his death."

Lightning smiled as she lifted her head and sniffed the air. "Not many tigers in Lookshy," she told him as she caught the scent. "You're going to have to trust me Heron Jade Eyes."

Heron looked at Sparrow. "I'll trust you," he said.

Sparrow actually flushed. "You can trust Lightning as well."

Not a hint of doubt in that, Lightning thought, feeling guilty for past betrayals.

Heron lifted his head and whistled a piercing sound that echoed.

"What was that?" Lightning asked.

"Taking care of something. We should go."

Lightning nodded, shifted, sniffed at the air once more, and then set off at a run.

Behind her she heard Keike calling.

So much for her connections within Lookshy and the Seventh Legion, she thought.

The Silver Pact was likely going to be upset.

* * *

Lookshy was dark around her, Ivory stood upon one of the wall towers, looking about. Once more she dreamed, but as always, she could only watch.

The sun rose on Lookshy, its rays burning the city away, destroying towers and walls, leaving ruins behind.

Horses and riders galloped across a plain, but the dead rose up from the ground, hands covered in rotting flesh pulled horses and riders down, down, down.

The dirty streets of Nexus ran with blood.

A woman with a shield fought against a shadowy opponent, behind them another woman lay dead, and Ivory though she might have seen the dead woman before, for she was familiar.

And once more she stood in Lookshy as the raising sun laid it to waste and she could do nothing but watch.

* * *

A jolting sensation and the far off sound of cursing woke Ivory, but, remembering the situation she had been in, and knowing that it was not Hu cursing, she kept her eyes closed.

She was being carried, by a woman, a woman who occasionally missed her footing and stumbled. Was this woman carrying her over rough ground? She smelled nice, Ivory thought. Some subtle perfume that reminded her of a scent of one her sisters liked to wear.

Ivory was still considering the situation when the woman said, "I know you are awake." She stopped.

Opening her eyes Ivory looked at the woman who was cradling her. "You?!" Ivory said, recognizing the woman who had attacked her after the battle at Metagalpa. She tried to twist out of the woman's arms.

"Stop thrashing about before I drop you on your head," the woman said snappishly.

Pouting, Ivory did as she was told.

"Good." She carefully lowered Ivory to the ground.

Ivory shifted her cloak so it was not tightly wrapped around her. Spotting Hu she immediately felt better, though that he was not leaping on the woman's back and rending her suggested things were somewhat difficult.

They were somewhere under the city, Ivory did not know where, but she recognized construction style. The area was lit by a small globe that was fastened to the woman's formal kimono, on her right shoulder.

The woman looked at Ivory and then asked, "How's your shoulder?"

Ivory reached up, felt the hole in the orichalcuim where the arrow had pierced the armour - she would have to fix that. "I think it is okay."

"Good. I need you alive. I am Dreaming Blue. You are Ivory Peleps, disappointment and shame to your family."

Ivory's eyes widened. "That's not nice!"

Dreaming Blue simply shrugged her shoulders. "You're right," she said sarcastically, "I'm sure having an Anathema in the family has done their social standing no end of good."

Ivory started at the woman, felt her lower lip tremble.

"Before you start crying I would appreciate it if you gave me the Orrery, the watch. Give it to me and I'll give you some other pretty, shiny thing and let you go."

"No," Ivory said.

Dreaming Blue sighed. "I had hoped your would be reasonable about it. Mature."

"And saying mean things about my family makes you mature?" she snapped.

Dreaming Blue smiled. "Give me the Orrery. It is not for you. It has a value that you cannot even appreciate. It is not for a Twilight who is centuries away from understanding it. It is not for a spoiled Dynastic brat. It is not for a little girl who can recall clearly the last time she wet her bed!"

Ivory took a step back from the growing harshness in Dreaming Blue's tone and actually jumped, making a small 'eep' sound as the woman's voice whip cracked on the word 'bed'.

"Now give it to me," Dreaming Blue said, looming over Ivory like every adult authority figure that Ivory had ever dealt with. She had not felt like such a small child in a long time and she almost started crying.

However, within Ivory was the power of ancient heroes and the blood of terrestrial heroes, and none of them would have collapsed blubbering. She sniffed, stiffened her spine, and said clearly, "No."

Dreaming Blue looked down at her, an eyebrow arched. Then she sighed, and suddenly seemed less intimidating, less gigantic. "Very well. I will take you with me. Lock you up in comfort and you will stay so, safe, but imprisoned, until you give me the Orrery."

"I won't go with you," Ivory stated.

"I think you will find you have little choice."

Hu had come around to stand next to Ivory. His large form beside her was comforting, and as he growled she felt much better.

However Dreaming Blue did not seem concerned.

"We've already fought Kage Hu, and I found you wanting, but, I warn you if you do not step down I will make things difficult for you and for your patron. Neither of you would enjoy a severe audit."

Ivory did not know what she was talking about, but her words seemed to have an effect on Hu. The tiger shifted back a few steps, suddenly looking uncertain. Angry, Ivory moved to stand between Hu and Dreaming Blue, holding out her arms wide. "Leave him alone," she snapped.

If Ivory was aware of how ridiculous she looked she did not show it.

"He'll be fine, as long as he does not interfere with my duties," she told Ivory. "Now, are you going to come with me peacefully or are you going to make me punish you first?" Her tone was saccharine.

Ivory looked back over her shoulder, at Hu. She could not do anything that might hurt him, not after all he had done for her, not after he had saved her life recently. She was certain if she asked him to fight he would, no matter what the cost to him, and whoever the patron Dreaming Blue had mentioned was.

But Ivory could not ask him to.

Which meant she was going to have to fight on her own.

"I don't need Hu's help to beat an old woman like you," Ivory said.

Dreaming Blue laughed. "Child, you would need more than his help to beat this old woman."

"Good thing she's got that help," Heron called out from the darkness.

The apprehension that Ivory had felt drained away when she heard her friend's voice.

"She'll need more than your help," Dreaming Blue snapped, as she spun on her heel, wobbled unsteadily, to face Heron.

"Got that covered as well."

Heron stepped into the light of Dreaming Blue's globe, with him two women.

Ivory looked at the women, wondering who they were. The one, slim, with short brown hair, did not look like anyone special, but the other woman, who was tall, with black hair and the strange silver tattoos that covered her body, had an air of danger about her.

"I see you've found a Lunar," Dreaming Blue said to Heron. "Careful not to trust it."

"Shut it bitch," the woman with the tattoos said. She was smiling in a manner that showed too many teeth.

"I think you should leave," Heron said.

"We aren't going to fight?" the slim woman asked. She sounded disappointed, though Ivory supposed it might just be her imagination.

"Not unless she wants to." He looked at Dreaming Blue, his body language making it clear that the next move was Dreaming Blue's.

Dreaming Blue looked at Ivory. "You will give me the Orrery," she said, then walked away, passing between Heron and the woman with the tattoos.

The tattooed woman's hand came down and slapped Dreaming Blue across her bottom, hard enough for the sound of it to echo in the tunnel.

Dreaming Blue, not surprisingly, jumped, and then spun on her assailant. "What do you think you are doing Lunar?" she demanded, hands on hip, leaning into the other woman's personal space.

The woman smiled. "I heard the way you where talking about punishment. I figured you might like it."

Dreaming Blue took a few steps back, spun on her heel, tottered uncertainly for a moment, then stalked away. A moment later the light she carried went out.

Ivory was about to go searching for the glow rod when a golden glow lit the area around them. She turned, expecting to see Heron glowing, but instead it was the second woman, the smaller one. "She's a Solar too?" Ivory asked.

"Ivory Peleps, this is Sparrow Hawk," he said, indicating the Solar. "And this," he obviously meant the woman with the tattoos, "is Lightning. Sparrow, Lightning, this is Golden Eyes Ivory Peleps."

"You really are a child," Lightning said. "I figured you were just a midget or something."

"What?" Ivory asked.

"Don't worry about it," Lightning waved the question off.

"I'm please to meet you Miss Peleps," Sparrow said.

Politeness took the fore, and Ivory bowed to the women. "I am pleased to meet you as well."

"All well and good," Heron said, "now let's get out of here."

"Do you know where we are?" Lightning asked.

"Not a clue," Heron said. He looked towards Ivory.

"I was carried here, unconscious most of the way."

Heron nodded and looked around. "We're probably close to the river. I'm pretty certain we'll find a tunnel under it." He started walking, in the opposite direction that Dreaming Blue had gone.

"How did you find me," Ivory asked, taking position by Heron's side. The woman, Sparrow, looked as if she had planned to take that place, but Ivory was not about to let that happen. Heron was, after all, hers.

Lightning laughed. "Not a lot of tigers in Lookshy, and when they are marking the path it is even easier to catch their scent."

Ivory looked towards Hu, who paced close by, darted towards him and put her hands around his huge neck to hug him. "Thank you Hu," she said.

Hu, as much as it might be possible for a tiger, looked uncomfortable and embarrassed.


	7. Chapter 6: Song and Prophecy, Love and

Chapter 6: Song and Prophecy, Love and Strategy

* * *

There had been a lock on the tunnel's hatch. Heron had let Ivory on it and within seconds it was open. He had praised her a little, let her preen. He figured she deserved it.

The tunnel had been long and damp, cold standing water, ankle deep. Bare foot Ivory was shivering a little by the time they exited the tunnel, coming out of a camouflaged entrance on the far side of the river from Lookshy.

There had been guards.

They had not really had much of a chance.

Heron had tried not to kill any of them.

Sparrow looked as if she had been trying to do the same, but a moment after one of them had attempted to grab her she seemed to have lost control. Three Lookshy soldiers lay dead amongst the incapacitated.

He turned and looked across the river at the city. Ivory and he had not accomplished what they had come to accomplish. He wondered if they might return. If so there would be no operating in the open. He doubted that he could return with Ivory, she would be too obvious.

Perhaps with Sparrow.

That thought surprised him.

Had there really been a connection between the two of them, or at least between the power they carried? He was not certain he could accept that. However he recalled what Lightning had told him and supposed it was possible he might have to.

It was odd that he felt nothing like that towards Ivory.

Or perhaps whoever had once held the power that Ivory claimed was not the sort of person one swore oaths of eternal comradeship to.

"Heron," Ivory called softly.

He looked away from the city, towards where the others were, already some distance away from the battle site.

"Coming," he said, and moved after them.

"Where are we going?" Heron asked as soon as he was amongst the others.

"We have a flying ship," Sparrow said simply.

"A flying ship?" Ivory asked. "What kind of flyin' ship? It is like those Halsanti air boats? Or is it something else?" She sounded excited. "How old is it? Does it use an essence re'ctor? Or is it one of those flying whales that they say the Fair Folk use? Oh, is it..."

"Ivory, let her talk," Heron said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"It's essence based," Sparrow said. "It's old. I found it in a manse that had been sealed for centuries."

"When can we see it?" Ivory demanded.

"Soon," Sparrow said. "That is where we are going right now." She used the tone one might for a somewhat dull child.

It was perhaps the worse way to speak to Ivory, Heron thought, and wondered if Sparrow had chosen to do so with the intent of getting the girl angry.

"Something is coming this way," Lightning said from up front. "An animal. A horse."

"I think it's okay," Heron said, moving to stand near Lightning, glad for the interruption. "It's probably my horse."

"Dragon?" he heard Ivory ask.

"I whistled him into action a while back," Heron told her, listening as the horse came closer. "I'm hoping his kicking his way out of the stable gave Poris the warning he needed to cast off and get clear."

"Oh, right, Poris," Ivory said, obviously not having given the crews of the ships any real thought to that moment. Not that he would have expected her to.

Dragon came out of the darkness, stopped in front of Heron, and whickered softly.

"Good to see you made it," Heron told the horse as he reached up to place a hand on his neck. "Swam the river I guess."

"That is an impressive piece of horse flesh," Lightning told him. "Surely someone in Lookshy wanted to buy him?"

Heron nodded as he turned from Dragon and walked towards Ivory. Dragon followed. "Yes, but I made it clear I was not selling. And it was pretty obvious that Dragon was not going to be stolen." Grasping Ivory around the waist he picked her up and swung her around to place her across Dragon's back. "You ride."

"I can walk," she told him, tone strident.

"Keep your voice down. You're lost a lot of blood and you are barefoot. Plus you got short legs. Ride."

Ivory made a rude noise.

"Let's go," he said.

"What are we going to do now?" Ivory asked from horseback.

Heron looked towards Lightning and Sparrow. "Regroup and come up with a new plan."

"We don't need their help," Ivory said sullenly, her voice low. Heron was not sure if he had been supposed to hear her.

"Follow me," Lightning said, setting off at a quick walk.

They left the river behind; crossing the open space before Lightning led them under the canopy of the trees. Sounds carried well across the river, and Heron could hear the noise of alarm in Lookshy. As they moved into the thick darkness within the forest the sounds faded and Heron supposed they had got away.

He was not sure how Lightning was finding her way in the night time forest, but they always had a path to travel, one clear enough for Dragon. They spoke little, and while Heron let himself relax somewhat, he did not let his guard down. Several times he reached up to keep an almost asleep Ivory from slipping from Dragon's back.

At one point the quiet of the night was disturbed by something passing directly above with a loud crackling sound. It woke Ivory up enough for her to say, "Mantis Transport."

"No surprise they are looking for us."

"It's a random search pattern," Sparrow said confidently. "They won't find us before we reach my ship."

Sparrow's words proved correct, and while Heron heard the Mantis pass close by several more times, it never passed over head again.

The ship was hidden in a shallow ravine, obscured by the thick vegetation that grew in the moist ground.

"This way," Sparrow said, sliding down the slope to the hull of the flying craft.

Heron took Ivory from Dragon's back and let the horse pick his own way down. Ivory was almost asleep, and he held her hand and handed her down to Sparrow. Lightning remained standing at the lip of the ravine, watching.

The ship was large, shaped something like a goose, with a large main body and a long neck ending in a rounded section. Sparrow opened a door in the main body, large enough to let Dragon in. "It's the cargo section," she explained. "Will your horse be okay?"

"Dragon will be fine," Heron told her, and Dragon, after looking into the hold, shifting his head back and forth, stepped in. Sparrow closed the door behind him

Farther up was another hatch which Sparrow opened so they could enter.

"I'm going up front," Sparrow said, "grab a seat," she told Heron, indicating the acceleration couches in the lounge like area.

Ivory yawned widely and said, "I'm gonna go to the cockpit too."

"You're going to stay here," Heron said, leading Ivory to one of the couches. "You'll probably fall asleep and get in the way."

"Will not," Ivory said, but was asleep a moment after he laid her on the couch.

Lightning entered. "We're good to go." She closed the hatch behind her and then took a seat on one of the couches.

"Aren't you going up front?" Heron asked her.

"Then who would watch you?" Lightning asked with a smile.

"True enough."

The ship began to vibrate, and a soft hum filled the cabin.

"Hold tight," Lightning said. "As soon as Sparrow get's some altitude we'll be moving out at full speed.

Heron took a seat, reaching out to put a hand on the sleeping Ivory.

True to Lightning's words the ship rose quickly and then accelerated, pushing Heron back into the couch and waking Ivory.

"We just have to get clear of Lookshy's air coverage, probably heading to the coast right now," Lightning told them. "If anyone follows we'll lose them quick enough."

As the ship reached its top speed the force of acceleration fell off, and not long after Ivory fell asleep again.

Several minutes later the ship began to gently bleed speed, and banked to its port side.

"We're probably out over the ocean now."

"Just a few miles off the coast," Sparrow said to them as she came back into the cabin, and then to Heron, "It's on autopilot, and I have control from back here if needed."

Heron nodded, reassured.

"We came looking for you," Lightning said.

"Why?" Heron asked.

"We plan on finding or creating a flying mountain," Sparrow told him. "When we heard Metagalpa had fallen, we had to find out why. Then when we found out why, we wanted to find you. I guess because of curiosity, maybe out of a sense of fellowship?"

Heron nodded. "That was in part why I went in search of Ivory."

"How did you two," Lightning looked at the sleeping Ivory, "come to be at Metagalpa, and then Lookshy?"

"Long story."

"Hearing it might help us figure out what is happening."

Heron nodded and looked to Sparrow for a moment before he explained to them about how he had come to win a watch in a game of chance and what that led him to. He told them of finding Ivory at a tower surrounded by ghosts. He told them of their travels, discovering the watch's secrets and then making their way to Metagalpa. He glossed over the attack by the Wyld Hunt, simply saying they were attacked, not going into detail about the battle.

The events at Metagalpa he covered in much more detail, telling them of the battle and all they had learned. Then he told them of his searching out Jenka Ghost Hand and what the man had told him.

They had pieced together the rest while following him and he did not need to tell them more.

"Quite the story," Lightning said when he had finished. She leaned back in the couch.

Sparrow had rolled and smoked a marijuana cigarette during the telling. She stubbed out the remains and shook her head. "This is dangerous."

Heron nodded. "A Death Lord. It's what we've put ourselves up against."

"And that woman, the archer. She must work for the Mask of Winters."

"I don't think so," Heron told her.

"I'm pretty certain she doesn't," Lightning said, still leaning back in the couch. "I was, for a time, keeping an eye on the Mask of Winters. Got a pretty good idea of who his death knights are. She's not one."

"So why was she there?"

"I think she was after Ivory."

Sparrow looked at Ivory. "Her?"

"She blew a mountain out of the sky."

"Fair enough."

"Whatever her reason for being there, she's screwed up your investigations, right?" Lightning sat up. "You still don't know what the Mask of Winters might have hidden in Lookshy."

"Yes. That is so."

"So now what?"

"We should go to the manse," Sparrow said. "We can make plans there. It is close enough to the areas we are interested in. Safe enough we can relax a little and give this the proper thought it requires."

"Suits me," Lighting said.

"Manse?" Heron looked between the two women.

"In the mountains between Thorns and Kirighast," Sparrow told him. "Close in this case being a relative term related to the fact that we have a very fast, first age air craft."

"Understood."

They spoke of other things after that, but none of it of real import, as the ship flew towards Sparrow's manse.

* * *

The water was clean and hot, the stone bathing room filled with steam.

Having come so far, so fast, Heron was a little off balance. Usually, even with Dragon's speed, he would have still been running. Now he was in a manse, he had been assured it was safe, far from anyone who might be looking for him. He could not, yet, relax completely, for his new companions were still an unknown quantity.

The Manse was large, and seemed to have been well stocked sometime in the recent past. No creature comforts, but everything one needed. The bath room had been a pleasant discovery, and he had settled down to bathing not too long after they had arrived, once he had put Ivory to bed. His two new companions, Sparrow and Lightning, had decided that they would best talk in the morning, after they all had rested and had time to ponder what they had learned.

Heron leaned back, his long hair fanning around him on the water's surface. Truly this was a civilized way to relax.

He heard the door open and even as he shifted about to look towards the sound he was moving to a shallower part of the bath, where he could get solid footing, in case he had to fight. Through the steam he saw Lightning come in. She was clothed in nothing but a towel which she held in front of herself.

"Sorry," she said, "I was not aware you were in here."

Heron relaxed slightly. "You're free to stay. Do you want me to leave?"

"Thank you. And no, I don't mind you staying." She moved towards the taps.

Heron did not stare, but his eyes would, every now and then, drift towards where Lightning bathed herself, pouring buckets of hot water over her body and then lathering up with a soap that smelled of lemon. He watched her because she might yet prove herself to be a threat and because she was an attractive woman. Not a soft woman, not one of the pampered, painted beauties (not that he did not find such women attractive), but a hard woman, with long, lean muscles, her dark skin marked with her silver tattoos.

When she stood and walked towards him, her skin glistening with water, hair wet, hanging tightly against her skin, he took a certain amount of pleasure in that. Again, he did not stare, but only watched, his eyes meeting hers as often as gaze drifted elsewhere. She smiled as she slid into the water, acknowledging his gaze. And she was examining him as well.

She slipped through the hot water, moving closer. "Enjoying the baths?" she asked.

He nodded. "A pleasant ending to a poor evening," he told her. "Usually after running from such a situation it is at least a few days before I can relax like this."

"Surely not all of it was poor," she smiled.

Heron smiled back, now certain it was no accident that Lightning had come into the bath at the same time he was there. "I'm still withholding judgement, but I think there may have been some good points."

"The gambler keeps his cards close to his chest," she said, snorting through her nose as a laugh. She moved closer to him, shifting about so he might see all of her body through the water. "Would you like to make love? Or just have sex?"

Heron moved a little closer to her. "I'd like either, but let's start with the former." He reached out and drew two fingers down the side of her face in a gentle caress that came to a stop in the V of her collarbone. Lighting reached up, took his hand, and slid it down, below the water, and onto her breast. The water hardly splashed as they moved closer and then kissed.

* * *

Hours later, in Heron's room, lying upon a simple mattress, the two rested, tangled in the sheets and each other's limbs. "That was quite pleasant," Heron said.

"What, done already?" Lightning asked.

Heron smiled and ran a hand down her back, his fingers tracing out her moonsilver tattoos along the way, until his hand cupped her bottom. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Just thinking about what to do next," he told her.

"Ahh, well, I suppose we've run through all the standard positions," she said, and then she shifted and held herself above Heron. "Want to see something interesting?" Her smile was wicked.

Heron supposed that something interesting might be dangerous, and if it was he would not be the first person to be attacked after being lulled into a sex fuelled sense of complacency, but he said, "Always."

She laughed softly as her flesh shifted. There were changes to her face as her jaw became stronger, her nose a little larger. Her breasts diminished as her shoulders broadened and she grew a little taller.

Heron reached up and ran his hand down a now flat chest, down across a muscled stomach, and between the legs of the man he now shared a bed with. A man whose passion was obvious.

"That is a good trick."

The now male Lightning laughed and lowered himself to kiss heron hard on the lips. As he lifted his head he said, "Many men have left the bed when I do this."

"Do you want me to leave?" Heron asked.

"No," Lightning said, his voice deeper.

"Good," Heron said with a smile.

* * *

Bare feet slapping softly on the stone floor, Ivory ran through the manse, Hu bounding silently at her side. She wore the same sleeping kimono as she had the night before, and while it appeared she had made an attempt to clean up, there were still blood stains on the material, and her hair was a bit of a mess. The cloak, as clean as always, flowed out behind her, dragging across the floor.

Her arm was in a well made sling, to better allow her wound to heal. While she seemed well enough, sometimes she would pause, breathing a little heavier, gently rubbing at her shoulder.

At those times Hu would stare at her, but say nothing, and Ivory would only smile and tell him that she was perfectly fine. While she was very well off for someone who had less than a day before taken what would have been a fatal wound for anyone else, Hu could tell that she was not perfectly fine. Not yet at least.

However Ivory was in a new manse, and there was so much she wanted to see.

She knelt down, having caught her breath, and ran her hand along a lower part of the wall. "White jade," she told Hu.

Hu sat not far off and replied, "Yes."

"It's strange."

Hu did not answer.

Ivory got up and started walking again, soon picking up her pace until she was running once more.

When she next stopped it was not to catch her breath, but to examine a damaged area of the manse. She looked about at the cracked walls, in some places the thick, decorative, stone facing had come completely away from the solid stone of the mountain. The floor was scraped, in some places gouged. Something heavy had been moving about quite violently in that room.

A fight, she supposed.

She crossed to the side of the room, stood upon the end of a broken bench, and looked at a place where the wall facing had come away. More white jade. She jumped down from the bench, paused, feeling dizzy for a moment, then knelt and poked at the rubble. Someone had made the attempt to clean things up, stacking the broken stone neatly in piles. Ready to be repaired perhaps? Ivory thought about fixing it right then, but she decided she wanted to see more of the manse. Perhaps there was something even more interesting.

"Let's go Hu," she said, smiling, and then ran off.

* * *

Heron lay in the bed, hands behind his head, sheets not really covering him.

He was, Lightning thought, as she got dressed, too damn pretty. She really wanted to climb back into the bed with him, wrap his long hair around her, just to lie next to him. Or at least she did until he put her off by asking, "So, what was that really about, not that I did not enjoy it." He smiled at her.

"What?"

"While I admit that there are some that would easily fall into bed with me, as it were, that's not you."

"How can you be so certain," she asked, stepping closer to him, looking down at his body appreciatively. He really was too damn pretty.

He shook his head. "What were you trying to avoid?"

"Ah, shit," she said, and turned away from him. "I wish Sparrow were here."

"Would a threesome distract me from such questions?"

Lightning turned to face him. "What? No. I just, well, I could use a cigarette, and she usually has them." She paused. "And don't say something like that to Sparrow. She would not take it well. At least I think she wouldn't."

Heron nodded. "Can I ask why?"

Lightning looked at him, not distracted by his beauty. "Not my place to say. Just that she has been hurt."

"I don't want to hurt her," Heron told her.

Lightning was impressed that he had not said, 'I will not hurt her.' That was something of a promise that was difficult to keep. Lightning knew that all too well. "Give her time. She'll tell you."

Heron nodded and then said, "You still have not answered my question."

"No, I haven't. Last night I discovered something I am not happy about. You're right. I didn't want to think about it. I used you."

"Fair enough," Heron said, his tone carefree as he lay back, putting his hands back behind his head. "Guess you'll also tell me when you're ready."

Lightning shook her head. "Not sure if you are optimistic or just full of yourself."

"Maybe a little of both."

"Ah, hell," Lightning said, and walked back to the cot, lay down beside Heron, still clothed, and put her arms around him. "Can I just lie here?"

Heron said nothing, only gently put a hand on the back of her head and stroked her hair.

Lightning's thoughts were full of pale girls with fine blonde hair, and the clean scent of soap with the hint of funerary spices.

* * *

The armoury was the most secure place in the manse, aside from the control centre.

It was where sparrow had put a cot so she could sleep.

Being surrounded by the weapons made her feel safe.

Safer at least.

The room was shaped like two, joined circles, where the two circles met stood two suits of celestial battle armour, one made of orichalcuim and the other, which Sparrow had made use of not so long ago, made of moonsilver. On fine wire racks around the battle armour were the weapons of gold and silver that the owners of the battle armour might have chosen to make use of.

On the periphery of the circles were mounted weapons, armour and other items of jade, enough to outfit a small force of terrestrials.

Sparrow had envisioned what it must have been like when the room was built and equipped. How the designer had envisioned the lord and lady of the manse, with their retinue of terrestrial bodyguards, entering the room. The Solar and the Lunar would have gone straight to their armour, the blooded circling the outside of the room to their own weapons.

What sort of world had that been?

It was beyond her to imagine it clearly at the moment.

She reached into the canvas bag at the foot of her cot, took out her marijuana pouch and rolling papers. She was just beginning to roll a fresh cigarette when she heard a sound. Bare feet on the stone, coming closer. Pausing in her work she looked up towards the door. A few seconds later a young girl and a tiger ran by the doorway. It had a surreal quality to it.

The sound of the running slowed, and then stopped. A few seconds later the girl walked backwards into view, staring into the room.

"Wow," she said breathlessly. The had tiger followed and stood nearby.

Without asking she walked into the armoury, stopping within to look about at everything stored there. "Wow," she said again. Then she walked straight to the moonsilver armour. She slid her arm out of the sling and reached towards the suit.

"Careful," Sparrow said, "there are sharp edges".

Ivory looked at her, frowned. "I'm not a baby. The sharp edges are cause its broken." She put her hand on the armour and then looked around. "Get the chest hatch," she said, indicating the twisted bit of metal which lay nearby.

Sparrow looked at her for a moment. "What?"

"I wanna fix it."

"It's a not a toy," Sparrow said, and even as she did she knew with certainty it was not the right thing to say to this girl.

She frowned, lips pursed together. "I know. Get the hatch so I can fix it."

Sparrow kept herself from laughing. There was something almost adorable in the girl's anger.

"Okay, tell you what. I'll get the hatch and let you try to fix it..."

"I'll fix it." No doubt in the girl's voice.

"...and then once you have tried you'll have to go."

"Fine," Ivory said.

Leaving her cigarette aside she got up from the cot and walked over to the pile of broken armour parts. She had made an attempt to repair it after her battle with Redigost, but had not had any luck. She picked up the chest hatch and carried the heavy metal plate over to the rest of the armour.

"Hold it here," Ivory said, indicating the twisted hinge point.

"Alright," Sparrow told her, and lifted the metal up to where Ivory had indicated.

Not too far off the Tiger sat, watching. Sparrow was almost certain it wore what for a tiger might be an amused smirk.

"Lift it a little higher," Ivory commanded as she climbed into the suit.

Sparrow sighed and lifted it higher.

She felt the metal move slightly in her hands as Ivory pushed and pulled at it. "I don't even have the proper tools here, I think."

"Uh huh," Ivory said, tone suggested she was not really listening.

"It's moonsilver. It sometimes acts like it has a mind of its own."

"Uh huh."

"Why in the hells am I explaining myself to a child?" The hatch was getting heavy and she was losing interest in entertaining the child.

"Okay let it go," Ivory said.

"What?"

"Let it go."

"It's going to fall on you."

"It's not."

"It is."

Ivory sighed loudly and then crawled from the armour. "Okay, now it won't fall on me."

"Child, how often did that tone of voice get you punished?"

Ivory only shrugged her shoulders.

"Amazing any of the dynast brats survive to exalt," she muttered and released her hold on the hatch, stepping back so it would not fall on her toes. It did not fall. Frowning, Sparrow grasped the hatch and pushed on it. It closed on the armour, not as smooth as it had before the damage, but it still closed.

Ivory moved in close, opened the hatch, and then crawled back into the armour.

Sparrow was pleased to note that she had not said, 'I told you so.' She also decided there was little point in arguing with the girl. "I do have some tools, not really suited for this, like a I said," she told Ivory, "and some more of the parts. Would you like them?"

"Thank you, I would like that very much," Ivory said, leaned around the hatch and smiled winningly up at Sparrow.

So that was how the little brats survived to exalt, she thought, and then went to get the things.

Ivory worked, humming softly, asking for a tool every now and then. Sometimes the tool she handed back to Sparrow was not exactly the same tool she had received. It was, Sparrow thought, fascinating to watch her work. The moonsilver battle armour, which she had given up thoughts of fixing, was being made whole before her eyes.

Ivory's tiger, Hu, sat close by, watching patiently. Sparrow wondered about that tiger. If he was a Lunar she was sure Lightning would have said something. Perhaps he was some sort of Lunar offspring. Was Ivory's paired Lunar watching out for her? Or perhaps watching her, keeping an eye on the child for foul reasons.

Well, she would not let some Lunar harm a child, she decided. The leather wrappings of the bronze mallet she held creaked in her grip.

"Is there something wrong?" Ivory asked. She was leaning out of the armour, staring at her.

"No," Sparrow said. "Nothing." And then to change the subject she asked, "What was that you were humming? It sounded pretty."

"Just a hymn," Ivory said. "We learned it in school."

"There are words?"

Ivory smiled and nodded, then returned to her work within the armour. A moment later she began to sing, her soft voice echoing out from within the moonsilver armour.

_"Tell me of the Dragon's Way,_

_the trying path, not led astray._

_Dangerous to those weak of mind,_

_for they wander like the blind._

_Don't let my faith fade away,_

_for the Dragon's grace I pray._

_Sing to me the Dragon's Song,_

_let me hear it all day long._

_The world is hard, and often cruel,_

_the song is lost in the pleas of fools._

_Protect me on the Dragon's path,_

_from vain gods and the demon's wrath._

_Come walk with us and take our hands,_

_wrapped in the Dragon's wings we stand._

_For the Empress and her Empire,_

_Dragons Earth, Air, Water, Wood and Fire._

_We stand together, ten thousand strong,_

_A bulwark to the demon's throng."_

She stopped singing and continued to hum.

"That's," Sparrow paused, "pretty I suppose."

"I used to like it before I was one of the demons whose wrath I need to be 'tected from," Ivory told her.

Sparrow laughed at that.

It was perhaps an hour or two later Ivory climbed from the armour. On her forehead her caste mark burned brightly. She wiped her dirty hands on her blood stained sleeping kimono. "I think I got as much done as I can for now."

Sparrow moved closer to the armour, running her hands over it. "It looks good," she said.

Ivory smiled up at her, looking pleased with herself.

"Thank you," Sparrow told her.

"It's o..." Ivory paused, and her eyes took on a far off look. When she spoke there was an odd timbre to her voice. "Your mate from before the time of man will come to you; your gift will be pain."

Sparrow stared at her; she could feel her heart beginning to thump in her chest.

She slapped Ivory.

Hard.

Ivory stumbled back. She looked up at Sparrow. There was a shine in the corner of her eyes from tears that were about to be shed. "I'm sorry," she said, and then turned and ran from the armoury.

Hu growled low in his chest, his teeth bared, and then he turned and flowed from the room, following after Ivory.

Sparrow stared at the doorway for several seconds before she sat heavily on the cot.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

* * *

Ivory found a quiet part of the manse where no one was likely to bother her. She sat down, legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. She had cried a little, but not much. She sniffed, and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

"I didn't want to get her upset," she said.

"I know," Hu said.

"She was angry."

"Your prophecy seemed to target some sensitive place."

Ivory nodded, saying nothing for a time. She looked at Hu. "What did that woman mean, about the audit?"

Hu was silent.

"Tell me," Ivory said.

"It is not important."

"Tell me," Ivory said again, whining ever so slightly.

Hu sighed loudly. "I work for a god," he finally said.

"Which one?" Ivory asked.

Hu seemed to think about it before saying, "He is called Five Days of Darkness."

"Five Days of Darkness," Ivory repeated the words. "Like the Calibration festival?"

"Yes."

Ivory felt satisfied with the answer. "So that woman was going to have Five Days in Darkness audited?"

Hu nodded.

"Which is bad?"

"It can be."

"Do you like him?"

Hu nodded. "I owe him my life, and my position."

"Then I won't let you get in trouble for me," Ivory said, nodding her head to emphasize her words. "If that woman comes again I'll handle her."

"You are not ready for that."

"I'll get ready," Ivory mumbled softly.

Hu moved closer to her, rubbing his head against her. "Five Days in Darkness would not mind if he got in trouble because I helped you. He's smart, and has been around a long time."

"And what if you get in trouble?" Ivory asked.

Hu was quiet.

Instead of pushing Hu for an answer, Ivory stood and looked around. "Let's go see what else we can find." She started off, making her way into a dark corridor.

Hu followed after her.

* * *

Sparrow found Heron and Lightning in a room just off the manse's huge kitchen. They sat at a long, sturdy table; one of the many things that had been brought in by Redigost and his beast men. She took note of the way that the two sat close together, how they were at ease in each other's company as they spoke over the remains of a meal.

She suspected that they had become lovers.

She told herself she did not feel any jealousy.

However she did not make a remark, a teasing little dig, the sort of thing she would have had once said to members of her crew when she suspected that they had become intimate.

It was strange, the way she felt about Heron. She had, she realized, expected him to do something she found familiar, the sort of thing that would make her think, 'the same old Heron', because that was the feeling she got from him. An old friend. An old friend she had never met though, and whose actions were as likely to surprise her as not.

Was this something akin to what Redigost felt about her? No, she did not want to think about Redigost, but she was going to have to.

"Is something wrong?" Lightning asked after Sparrow had stood there for several moments.

"No," Sparrow said, and then, "did you tell the girl, Ivory, did you tell her about," she paused, "Redigost?"

"No," Lightning said, sounding surprised. "There would be no reason to."

"Redigost?" Heron looked between them.

"She said something about him," Sparrow told Lightning.

"What?" Lightning and Heron asked as the same time.

"That he was going to find me, and hurt me."

"Why should she say that?"

"I don't know."

"Ivory said this to you?" Heron asked.

Sparrow nodded. "Did you know about Redigost?"

"I have no idea who Redigost is. When Ivory said this to you, how did she sound?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Ivory," he paused, sighed, "Ivory apparently has the ability to speak prophecy."

"What?" both Lightning and Sparrow asked at almost the same time.

"She can apparently see the future, and she speaks it, whether she wants to or not."

"So what she says is going to happen?" Sparrow asked, frightened and her tone of voice, which she hated, showing it.

"We have access to an oracle? And that watch?" Lightning's tone was excited, and Sparrow almost hated her for that.

"Neither particularly consistent. Who's Redigost?"

"Redigost is a lunar," Sparrow said. "The person who once had his power was the mate of the person who had my power. It was not a good relationship. Redigost wants revenge." The words tumbled quickly out of her mouth. "That's the simple explanation."

"Very simple," Lightning added.

"Will Redigost be attacking us?"

"He shouldn't," Lightning told him. "He swore not to."

"How long will that last?"

"That's the thing," Lightning said.

"I see."

Sparrow sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of tea. "I guess I already knew that I was not finished with Redigost." Her voice only trembled a little and she was proud of that. "Just hearing Ivory say that," she shook her head. "I can't do anything about it. We need to talk about Mask of Winters."

"Are you sure?" Lightning asked.

"I'm sure." She took a large drink of tea. "Are you sure that the Mask of Winters has put something in Lookshy?"

"I'm as sure as I can be."

"But we can't be sure he wants to destroy Lookshy?" She dipped her finger in the tea and then traced her finger on the table.

"I suppose."

Sparrow, when she thought about it, found the answers to questions of strategy came easy to her. "Destroying Lookshy gives him nothing. It creates a power vacuum, one that anyone can fill. I suspect that with Lookshy gone the various powers in the Realm might actually put aside their differences and invade the scavenger lands. He can't want that to happen." She continued to trace on the table.

"How does he stop it?"

Sparrow looked down at the table top. In tea she had drawn a picture of the coast between Thorns and Lookshy. "He moves immediately." She drew a line from the point where Thorns was straight to the North. "He completely takes the Marukan Alliance, and the coast between Thorns and Lookshy, fortifies it." She tapped out little dots along the coast line. She paused and looked at it. "No. Being on the coast would leave him open. So he goes in deeper, cutting a wedge deep into Marukan." Her finger left more tea marks on the table. "And he has to do it in a matter of days."

"Impossible," Heron said.

"Difficult," Lightning countered.

"I think I could do it, if I had his resources," Sparrow said, surprising herself, but she could see it all in her mind.

Both of them looked at her as if she had grown a second head. Sparrow simply shrugged her shoulders. "He needs to make it so completely obvious that he is even stronger than Lookshy. He needs to remind the Realm he has beaten them before. He needs to make sure that everyone else in the scavenger lands realizes the futility of challenging him."

"He's going to need well placed forces to do all that," Lightning said.

"I know." Sparrow nodded. "So that is what we have to look for. The disposition of his forces will let us know how close he is. We can't..." she looked at Heron, "well, you can't go back to Lookshy, at least not immediately. And Lightning and I wouldn't know what to look for there. This leaves Thorns and the Marukan Alliance."

Neither Heron nor Lightning said anything for several seconds, and then Lightning said, "You're right." And Heron said, "Almost rather go back into Lookshy."

Sparrow smiled, in spite of the seriousness of the moment. Something about it felt so right. "We have an oracle and the watch, so first of all, how can we not know what the Mask of Winters is planning?"

"As I said, both Ivory and the Watch are inconsistent." He paused. "Well, the watch might not be, if Ivory knew how to read it, but even then, in this case, I don't think it will help."

"Why," Sparrow asked, leaning closer towards Heron.

"I think that the Mask of Winters arranged for the watch to be found, he put it in play with hopes that someone would go to Metagalpa and stop what was to happen."

"So, the dead are fractious?" Sparrow asked.

"Very," Lightning said. "From what the Lunars have gathered the various Death Lords often are at cross purposes, when they don't outright hate each other."

"Who does the Mask of Winter's hate?" Sparrow asked.

"I can find out." She looked to Heron. "We should still see if the watch can give us anything," Lightning said. "Get Ivory to look at it."

"I'll talk to her about it."

"Alright," Sparrow said, "we have plans to make."

* * *

Elsewhere in the Manse Ivory sat in the room she had woken in earlier that day. Hu had gone somewhere, as he often did. She did not know where the others were, and supposed she would have to go look for them, and for something to eat; her stomach rumbled at the thought, but for the moment she was focusing on her armour.

The arrow from the night before, and just thinking about it brought a twinge of remembered pain, had punched a hole through the orichalcium. She placed the breast plate on her knees, and reached in to run her fingers over the breached, jagged bits of metal on the inside. Carefully, her caste mark glowing, she pushed the metal back into place, using her thumb to slowly smooth it, to join it back together, as if her lap were an anvil and her hands the armourer's hammer.

Eventually she finished, and put the repaired armour aside and then reached for her cloak. She ran her hands through the light, silky material, and found no tear in the fabric, no blood stains. She held the overly large cloak up and then swept it around herself, letting it settle across her shoulders. After a moment she spun about, lifting it from her, and then draping it across the back of a chair.

Stepping back the looked at the black cloth.

"When I'm cold you keep me warm, cool when I'm hot. You don't get dirty, don't tear, and almost no one ever comments on it when I wear a cloak that drags behind me. And you repair yourself, and last night," she paused, "I'm pretty sure you put pressure on my wounds to help them stop bleeding."

She took a few steps back, canted her head to the side and examined the cloak. She squinted her eyes and shifted her gaze so she was looking at it from the corner of her eyes. Finally she stepped close and picked it up from the chair, holding it out in front of her.

"I think you're a demon," she told it.

She expected something to happen, perhaps for the cloak to twist about in her hands, or for the creases and folds to form a face that would speak to her. She was disappointed, for the black material remained as it always did.

Still, Ivory was not going to be put off. "Darengest left you to watch over me, didn't she?"

Still nothing.

She frowned. "Fine, be that way. I'll keep you, cause you were a gift, but I'll watch you, and if I think you're up to no good, then I'll destroy you."

The cloak remained unchanged.

"As long as we understand each other," she told the cloak, and then put it on and went in search of her late lunch.

* * *

Lightning wandered the pathways around the manse, down the mountain side, sometimes shifting to forms that better handled the terrain. After a while her path grew more certain, and she shifted into the form of a long, legged mountain cat.

She came out of the thick woods into a clearing by a small river. A fire burnt there, the smoke of which she had smelled and followed. It was a simple camp, a lean-to and the fire. The camp's occupant was a large man, broad across his shoulders, dressed in moonsilver plate and a lose robe. He sat in front of the fire.

"Good evening Lightning," he said, not looking towards her.

Lightning shifted to her human form and walked towards the man, around her arms sparks of electricity danced. "You have to leave Redigost," she told him.

He did not look up from the fire, but pulled the robe away from his shoulder, revealing a circle of moonsilver. "Am I not far enough away from her? I do not offer her harm."

"Go away."

"No," he said simply. "I stay close, until the day comes when you owe me your life." He paused, and for the first time looked towards her, with his wide spaced eyes. "I will make sure no one else kills her before I get the chance."

"Just leave," she said.

"No." He snarled. "You cannot know what I feel."

Lightning was about to speak, but paused, memories of a young woman, her skin pale, smelling of funerary spices, filling her mind.

Redigost looked at her, his countenance thoughtful. "Something is bothering you," he said.

"Nothing is bothering me. You're bothering me."

There was a curious look on his face,

Lightning took a step closer, not pleased. "She has two more solar companions now."

He seemed to think about that for a moment before he said, "I've not sworn not to kill them." He looked back to the fire.

"Stay away from us," Lightning told him, then turned, shifted into the form of an owl and took to the air.

Damn him, she thought.

* * *

Bare chested, Heron knelt in the manse's training hall, in front of him a pair of red jade, slabbed sided plasma tongue repeaters. He had taken the weapons from the manse's armoury.

He picked up the pistols from the floor, holding them by the grips, the barrels laid along the inside of his arms, held like tonfa. Standing, he started a simple kata, one of the first he had ever learned, getting a feel for the weapons' weight, how they moved in his hands.

In time his movements became more complicated as he left the simple kata behind and began to improvise. One maneuver flowed into the next, the two pistols often spinning about him as he tried new techniques. Often there was the 'click' of the hammers falling on an empty chamber as he pulled the triggers.

He moved faster, stronger, soon whirling around about the room until his hair was wet with sweat and flew about him with each precise and perfect movement. And yet it still did not feel right.

He stopped. Feet almost exactly where they had been when he began almost two hours before.

He spun the pistols lazily in his hands, thoughtful.

"That was very good," he heard Sparrow say.

Heron turned towards her, a little surprised. "Thank you, but it is not quite where it needs to be."

Sparrow remained at the doorway, watching him, not approaching. "Where does it need to be?"

Heron knelt facing her and placed the pistols to his side. "Not long ago I fought a Death Knight in the air over Metagalpa. She was very good. Better than me. Had she not inflicted a handicap on herself I am fairly certain she would have killed me."

"I see."

"I've combined the pistols with unarmed combat and sword play, it usually works."

"Not last time."

"No. There is a way, I am certain of it, to make the combination smoother, more deadly.

Sparrow knelt where she was, maintaining her distance. "Tell me about it."

Heron smiled. "The pistols form is called Righteous Devil Style, the unarmed form is called Solar Hero Style."

"And the sword form?"

"An amalgamation of different forms, anything that a practitioner of the blade would know."

"Is that the problem?"

Heron shook his head. "I don't think so. There is nothing wrong with the combination, just my understanding of it." Heron took a deep breath. "I know it can be better, I am just not sure how."

"I know that feeling. When I am certain I should be be able to do something, but I can't recall how to get there. It's become more frequent since I was chosen."

"How did that happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

Sparrow did not answer immediately, and then, "Will you answer the same question for me."

Heron thought about it for a moment and then said, "Not yet. Soon, perhaps. We exchange our stories then?"

Sparrow nodded. "Fair enough. Would you mind some advice?"

Heron shook his head.

"Your rhythm is sometimes broken. It looks like you are reaching for something, but at the last moment change your mind. Maybe you need to trust your instincts a little more."

"I'll keep it in mind," Heron said, putting his hands on his weapons and standing.

He started from the beginning, focused. If Sparrow continued to watch him he did not notice.


	8. Chapter 7: Following Hints

Chapter 7: Following Hints

* * *

A flying ship had come to Nexus.

While not an unprecedented event, it still generated some excitement amongst the citizens and visitors alike. Amongst those visitors was Faded Maiden, and she was interested in the flying ship as well. Speed was of the essence to her mission, and so such a craft could serve her.

At first she had thought to steal it, though her skill at flying such craft was limited. That the passengers and crew were terrestrials did not concern her greatly. However, once seeing them she had reconsidered her options. Why kill when she might co-opt; though of course killing would likely come.

One of the Dragon Bloods had suffered a lost. Faded Maiden had always been sensitive to those who grieved, as had been proper for a Sijanaese Funerary Priestess. The young woman, at least young for a terrestrial, had patchy black hair. and faint burn scars on her face. She had skin the colour of polished granite and red rimmed quartz coloured eyes.

Faded Maiden took in the travel stained red, silk robes and the huge hammer she carried. Yes, the Death Knight thought, she'll do.

* * *

Cloud Hands hoped the authorities of Nexus might be immediately helpful, but she doubted it. The leaders of Nexus might tolerate the Realm's trade, but they often made it clear they did not trust the Empress and her forces. She had suggested that the other's try to investigate what they could on their own. The faster they found out what they needed the better.

She was not sure how effective Grace or Anzar would be, but she suspected that Tolsay would learn something. And perhaps young Cathak Kohishi would uncover some useful information. He had the air of the rogue around him sometimes. Assuming he could move past his injuries.

She would be meeting with officials from the city, and she did not look forward to it.

* * *

Tolsay slouched through the door of the bar, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. The interior of the building was much darker than the day outside, and he paused for a moment to remove his dark lensed glasses. After a few seconds he continued deeper into the room, moving amongst the tables and their occupants.

The man behind the bar was tall and well dressed, his long, brown hair pulled into a neat pony tail. Tolsay slid onto a stool, almost directly in front of the bartender. "Got anything from Isle?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not, other than a dreadful beer that some weed of a merchant was dumping in Nexus."

"Sounds good ya, pull me a mug."

"You do realize it is dreadful." He drew the word dreadful out.

"Ya."

The bartender simply nodded, and went to a small cask amongst the other casks and bottles. From it he drew a mug of a dark, dark beer. He placed the mug on the polished countertop in front of Tolsay.

Tolsay picked up the mug, licked his lips, and then took a sip. "Ya," he said a moment later, "awful swill ain't it."

"As I warned you."

"What else ya got that might be good?"

"From the Isle? Nothing. I am aware that your employer is expecting news."

"Ya, would be wouldn't he. Got some leads, ya."

"I'm sure he will be pleased to hear that."

Tolsay nodded and took another drink of the beer, gulping down a mouthful, lips pursing sourly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It might be worth recalling that your employer has stressed something of a time frame."

Tolsay nodded and drank more of his beer.

"I see that you are showing your usual amount of concern."

He smiled and continued drinking.

"If you do have anything of use, I've been told the standard message drop is in effect."

Tolsay finished his glass and put it in front of the man. "Pull me another, ya?"

"This?"

"Grows on you, ya."

He fastidiously picked up the glass. "Bright Feather Lady of Intoxicants, I hope not."

* * *

The scars that marred his face and body probably would never heal, at least not completely. They were however faded a little, and Kohishi had decided that he might use them, for they gave him a certain roguish, dangerous look. However, his missing arm was another matter entirely. It threw his balance off, and ruined his fighting style.

It was a problem he had to so something about.

Nexus, city of trade that it was, offered him an opportunity.

Long cloak on, covering his disability, he made his way through the city, asking questions, allowing the threat of violence to hang over his words. Even one armed he could have easily killed any mortal who might refuse him, and so the threat was very real, and they knew that.

It took him a few hours, but he finally found a solid lead. He moved quickly then, hiring a carriage to take him down to the Nighthammer District, to a small shop between Sijantown and Lookshy-town.

There was no sign above the shop, and its windows were blackened, covered with iron work both decorative and sturdy.

The door was not locked, and opened up into a medium sized shop, lit by lamps hanging from the ceiling.

"Welcome kind sir," the proprietor said from behind a small counter. "How may this humble shop help you?"

In the dim lighting provided by the lamps it was hard to tell much about him, other than he was probably a southerner, and very old.

Kohishi did not answer, but looked about at the wares. There was something slightly distasteful about the shop and the things it sold. So near the Sijantown it provided the simple embalming tools the morticians needed to prepare bodies for the trip to Sijan. However, it contained much more than that. Fine scalpels and needles, spools of wire and silk thread. Various spices and other, more disturbing powders and unguents.

Amongst those he had questioned there was a belief that those who worked with the dead, for purposes other than embalming often sought out the shop.

But there were other things that he had been told the shop might have, and near the back he found what he sought. Placed upon a shelf, within a glass case, was an arm made of steel and red jade, a coincidence he took as being favourable.

"Ah, I see that you are a connoisseur of such devices," the proprietor said, coming out from behind his counter. "That was brought to me by the Scavenger Lady Righteous Bride, perhaps on the last of the expeditions she undertook. It is both a work of art and historically significant." He smiled.

Kohishi looked at the man and then twitched his cloak aside, revealing his missing arm.

"Oh, I see. My apologies kind sir."

Up close Kohishi could see the man's brown eyes, the wrinkles on his face.

"I am not interested in the story you attribute to it, nor its providence. I simply need it." He leaned in close to the man. "I know its value. You will sell it to me." With his left hand he bought out a coin bag, stuffed to capacity. "Mostly silver and a little jade," he said, holding it out. The money had come from Bethyl Hisan and her dead, Nuri riders. They certainly had no need for it.

The man took the bag, unable to hide his smile as he felt its weight. "You are most generous kind sir."

Kohishi put his hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing firmly, not enough to cause pain, but close. "I will want two other things," he said.

"Yes kind sir?" the man said nervously.

"The name and location of a surgeon skilled enough to attach this quickly and information about a pretty gambler who came here, the ships he bought and his destination."

* * *

Grace had thought about trying to find the things that Cloud Hands sought, for she too wanted to find the Anathema they had fought, the one that had killed Rajan Soo, but instead she had found herself in a small, through well appointed, temple of the Five Dragons. She sat upon a marble bench beneath the grand, stained glass skylight. The stone was cool and solid under her hand and offered some comfort.

She could not get the sight of Rajan Soo, burning to death, out of her head. She kept going back to it, rehashing it in her mind, again and again, thinking about all the things she might have done differently that would have kept the old woman alive.

And she thought again of the man who had killed Rajan Soo, who had beaten Grace herself.

When she found the man, the beautiful man, the anathema, she would kill him. She was certain of it. The dragons would be at her side. How could they not?

"She was important to you, the one you lost," someone said.

Grace turned, a little surprised. Standing a little distance off was an old, beautiful woman. She wore dark robes, had long silver hair, and looked at Grace with an expression of compassion.

"What?" Grace asked, demanded really.

The woman smiled. "I do not mean to intrude, but I am a Sijanese priestess. I have seen many mourn. You lost someone very close to you. I am sorry."

Grace nodded after a moment. "Yes."

The dark robed woman moved closer. "Would you like me to offer a prayer, of speedy rebirth?"

Grace gave it some consideration, thinking that such a thing would be helpful, it would make her feel better at least. "She died fighting an Anathema," Grace told her, for she wanted the priestess to know that. "She was named Rajan Soo."

The woman nodded and moved out into the temple. For a moment Grace thought she was just going to stand there, but then the woman lifted her voice in song. A soft, simple song, asking for the dragons to lead the souls of heroes to their rightful rest, to rebirth. Grace suddenly felt as if she might cry, and wiped at her eyes. She listened raptly to the song, unwilling to say anything until it was over.

When the song finished the woman turned and smiled kindly at Grace. "I will leave you now," she told Grace.

"No!" Grace said, surprised at the alarm in her voice. "No," she said, softer. "Please, stay."

The woman nodded and bowed. "I am called Iris."

"Memnon Grace. Please sit."

"Thank you Madam Memnon," she said, and then took a seat beside her.

"Rajan Soo was a kind woman," she said, "and the monster that killed her must be destroyed."

Iris nodded.

"All she wanted was to stay close to me." Grace laughed bitterly. "So she could help me. She did not deserve to die."

"And yet she did," Iris said, "at least now she knows a peace the living never can." Her tone was kind and warm. She reached out and gently patted Grace's hand.

Grace found herself nodding, for what the woman said made very much sense, and she felt more at peace than she had since Rajan Soo had died. "Thank you," she said again.

Iris smiled at her.

* * *

Anzar wandered the streets of Nexus, looking for Dreaming Blue.

Always before, well, most times, she had shown up when he needed her. That in itself was odd enough, now that he really thought about it. There was far more to Dreaming Blue than he had believed. She was more than some mortal in service to the Mouth of Peace.

He did not think it really mattered, but he wondered if he was truly doing the right thing, waiting for her to answer his questions, doing what she requested of him. That he likely would decide that right or wrong did not really matter was something he was aware of, and he wondered about that a little as well. Had she addled his sense somewhat, or was he simply in love with her? Or were the two options one in the same?

At a small tea house he took a seat on the outside bench, watching the people around him. When one of the servers came out he ordered tea and something to eat, just asking for whatever they had. The young man brought him a pot of tea and a plate on which were artfully arranged cubes of battered tofu. Both the tea and the tofu were good, and he enjoyed them. He knew he should be doing something, but for the moment was happy enough just to sit there, to allow himself a moment to forget.

He suspected that it was not a luxury he would be allowed to enjoy again in the foreseeable future.

* * *

Dreaming Blue made her way through Yu Shan, moving quickly, not stopping to socialize with either god or exalt. She sought one person in the entire heavenly city, a friend, or at least she had once been.

She found her, the chosen of Serenity called Gracious Shaia, in a meditative garden, speaking to several gods. She did not identify them, for they seemed aware of her coming and were gone before she came too close. Only Shaia remained and she smiled broadly at Dreaming Blue. "Dear Blue, it is good to see you."

Dreaming Blue suspected that Shaia really meant that, which annoyed her greatly, but she did her best not to show it. "It is good to see you as well," she said, and took a seat beside the other Sidereal without being invited.

Shaia slid closer, so their knees touched, and she leaned in close. "How can I help you Blue?" She smiled brightly, her green eyes sparkling; her strawberry blonde hair, and the spray of freckles across her cheeks made her look young and innocent. She was neither Dreaming Blue knew.

"I am looking for a Solar."

Shaia smiled. "Oh? And I am certain you have this Solar's best interest in mind."

It was impressive, Dreaming Blue thought, that Shaia could express such sarcasm with not a hint of it in her tone.

Dreaming Blue went on. "She is a child, I'm sure you must have heard of her. The gods of children have likely already approached those that serve Serenity. I need to find her."

"And why, beyond the obvious desire of those that serve the Bronze, would you want to find her?" She still smiled.

Dreaming Blue took a deep breath. "She has the Orrery of the Hidden Stars."

Shaia laughed, quite loudly. After several seconds she seemed to be trying to get control of herself, and she held up a hand, "I'm sorry, please, just a moment." And then she laughed some more, managing to ask, gasping, "How long have you been looking for it?"

If Dreaming Blue did not need Shaia's help she was certain she would have struck the other Sidereal. "I am glad that you find this so amusing, that the one artefact that could help us greatly in these uncertain times is in the hands of a child."

"Perhaps this child holds the shard of the Orrery's original creator," Shaia said, finally getting in control of herself, ending her laughter.

Dreaming Blue had not considered that, and it made her pause, but she shook her head a few seconds later. "That hardly matters. Creator or not, she does not know how to use it. I do. If you know where she is..."

Shaia looked at Dreaming Blue for several seconds. "You seriously expect me to tell you how to find this Solar?"

"The Orrery is far more important than philosophical differences. This is a time when Creation needs what it can provide."

"The Orrery is a bauble compared to the power that the Solars can bring against the enemies of Creation," Shaia countered.

Dreaming Blue paused, wondering if Shaia included her and all the other members of the Bronze Faction numbered as those enemies. "They're mad."

Shaia only shrugged her shoulders.

"Won't you give me any help?" Dreaming Blue asked. "For what we once were?"

"That's hardly fair," Shaia said.

Dreaming Blue said nothing.

Shaia sighed. "Look to Thorns; that is all I will say."

"Thorns? Why?"

Shaia only smiled and said no more.

* * *

Empty forest surrounded the small shadowland, a shadowland barely worth the name. As Faded Courtesan settled in amongst the old, dreary bones she suspected that the tiny pocket of death would be absorbed and closed by Creation soon. It had that feeling, as if the life of the world was pushing in on it. It made her feel a little uncomfortable for the whispers in her mind made their displeasure at such a state known.

It was a connection to the Underworld however, and its essence more suitable to her.

As she rested up, amongst the death, she focused again on the quiet whispers in the back of her mind, ignoring their anger and instead listening for information as to where she might find the girl.

* * *

Cloud Hands had had better days, much more productive days. She had spent hours dealing with various Nexus bureaucracy; a countless number of minor functionaries, two of the ministers, even the Councilwoman Kratz the Astrologer. All of them had been unfailingly polite, and not one of them had told her anything of use.

Of course they wanted to help her, of course they wished to see the demons dealt with, but what she was asking for was private. Difficult to Find. Not recorded. And many other excuses. All of it came down to them not telling her.

Had the Anathema come to an agreement with the Council and the Emissary? Was it just because she was from the Realm? Was it simply that they did not wish to threaten their trade? Had she not offered the right bribes; too many or too few?

She was still trying to make some sense of it, so she might go forward with a better plan, when she reached the dock where Tolsay had landed his ship. A few mercenary guards stood at the base of the dock, keeping the curious at a distance. There was a small warehouse near the dock that Tolsay had rented, just a place to meet as they did not expect to be there long. She entered, thinking it would be nice to sit down for a time.

Inside she found Kohishi, bare-chested, sweaty, dirty, drinking from a wine skin. He looked at her and smiled, the cocksure smile she recalled from when she had first met him. "Good day Abbess, I hope your day was productive."

"Your arm," she said, for his missing right arm had been replaced with one of steel and red jade. Where flesh and steel joined the skin was red, slightly swollen, small, fresh sutures of metal wire glinted in the light.

He smiled at her. "I needed a new one. A tiger took my old. I'll try not to lose this one the same way."

Cloud Hands nodded after a moment. "I am glad you have found a replacement. It must have cost... Please, let me arrange for payment..."

He held up his metal hand. Please, no need to concern yourself. I appreciate it, of course, but I would not ask such largess from Immaculate Order. And I have news for you as well. I have found out what we need. Our target sailed to Lookshy with three ships. As of about a week ago he was still tied up at the Lookshy docks, apparently in no rush to move on."

For a moment she thought to ask if he was certain of that, but she could tell he was. Instead she asked, "How did you find this out?"

"I simply asked the merchant who sold me this arm."

Cloud Hands was shocked. "What else did you learn?"

"Nothing more than I have already told you. No one seemed to think the man and girl other than a charismatic merchant and his daughter. They have apparently taken up residence in Lookshy for the time being."

She ran her hand over her head, feeling the stubble thick on her scalp. She had been too preoccupied to shave hear head over the last few days. "Why have they gone to Lookshy? Why would Anathema go to such a place?"

She did not expect Kiyoshi to answer, and he said nothing, obviously recognizing her rhetorical questions for what they were.

"We will leave as soon as the others return," she said.

Kiyoshi nodded, smiling wolfishly. He reached for his swords. "Please excuse me Abbess, I am getting used to my new arm."

* * *

Tolsay had already learned of the ships the Anathema had bought and where they had gone. However he said nothing, for he found the more confident Kiyoshi to be more tolerable than the depressed one. Possible the beating he had taken had given him some character. The gods and dragons knew that Tolsay himself had been a self satisfied bastard until he had been knocked down a few times.

Though he had never lost a limb in the process, but supposed the Kiyoshi had been clever enough to find a new one.

"So we're gonna make a run ta Lookshy, ya?"

"Yes, though that will present us with some political problems," Cloud Hands said.

"Ya. Fly anywhere near and they're right up your tail political. Don't wanta do anythin' to alarm them, ya. Put down, let 'em look, hope they don't confiscate the ship."

"Is that a possibility?" Cloud Hands asked, obviously concerned.

Tolsay scratched his head. "They think it's got military 'pplications, they might."

"We'll have to try to avoid that."

"Ya. Hate to lose the ship."

"Are you ready to go?"

"Say the word."

She nodded and went to speak to Kiyoshi. Tolsay watched her for a moment and then turned and walked to Heart Spear There were a few things he could do that he hoped would make her less interesting to the folks at Lookshy. He had always given the city and the Seventh Legion a wide berth in the past. Not the sort of the place he wanted dealings with.

That was not to say that he had not considered it.

Just good sense to have some plans; both for getting in and out.

He was finishing up his work with the ship when Grace returned.

Looking up he frowned as he saw she was not alone.

The woman had found a follower, maybe a pet. Dragons and gods, he thought, she was not going to bring that woman with her.

He watched as Cloud Hands approached the pair, quite obviously thinking the same thing.

They spoke, Cloud Hands growing more agitated and Grace becoming more adamant.

Cloud Hands looked towards him, and Tolsay recalled the conversation they had had not that long ago; ' if ya want to wipe noses and asses'. So, was she going to continue to go easy on Grace, or was she finally going to put her foot up the woman's ass and tell her to 'suck it up'?

"I don't want to be a source of conflict," the stranger said; she was dressed like a Sijanese priestess, Tolsay noted.

"You will not be a source of conflict," Grace said, "and I think that Iris can be of aid to us. A priestess of Sijan is welcome in many places."

That was actually an intelligent argument, Tolsay thought.

It appeared that Cloud Hands thought so as well, for she seemed to be at a momentary disadvantage.

As they debated Tolsay wondered at Cloud Hands actions. To rush after this Anathema, seeming so unprepared was odd. Of the members of her hunt only Anzar appeared of worth for the undertaking. Kiyoshi, though Tolsay was beginning to like him, was untested, or more to the point he had failed when he had been tested. Give him a few years more seasoning and he might be up to the challenge.

And Grace, Grace was a pup crying for her lost nurse, as far as Tolsay could tell. She was trouble, a disaster on two legs, the sort that might get them all killed.

Clouds Hands had to see that, and yet she pressed on.

It was crazy.

Not that he was going to complain. That crazy was helping him, for the moment.

The debate had gone on, but it appeared Cloud Hands' heart was not really in it. She wanted to be off, quickly, with as much support as she could muster. So she was going to give in, Tolsay was certain of it, and within minutes she tossed up her hands, in a manner not befitting an abbess of the Immaculate Faith, and said, "Fine. She can come."

"Thank you," Grace said.

The priestess simply only bowed respectfully to the both.

Tolsay decided he did not trust the woman.

* * *

When Anzar returned to the ship he discovered that the rest of the hunt was ready to go, and that a woman, a Sijanese Funeral Priestess, had joined them. He did not know what to think about it, but had little time to do so before they took to the air, flying towards Lookshy.

He sat in the craft, quiet, wondering about Dreaming Blue, her absence, when he might see her again, if there would be answers.

"Think that we'll get any help from Lookshy?" Kiyoshi asked.

Anzar looked at the young man, a little surprised at the question. Before Kiyoshi had been quiet, still nursing his hurts and his shame, or so Anzar supposed. Now there was a light of confidence to him. Perhaps it was just the new arm he had. "They will want to see the Anathema destroyed, just as we do. If the two are still in Lookshy, simply our commendation of them will be enough. If they had fled already, then who knows?" He lifted his shoulders. "There is much bad blood between us."

Kiyoshi nodded. "We're going to need their help. There has to be some angle we can play to get it. There always is."

Anzar said nothing for a few moments. He nodded. "Yes."

"We could try play on their vanity. I mean, if they had a pair of Anathema sitting in their city they might be a little angry; pissed off really. That could work for us. We've fought them, they beat us pretty soundly, but we found them. Might be able to convince them that we are of value. All we have to do is stoke that anger."

"And not get burned by the fire," Anzar replied.

"That's always a possibility." He smiled.

Anzar said nothing for a few seconds, then asked, "Why do you follow the Abbess?" He lowered the volume of his voice.

Kiyoshi said nothing at fist, and then shrugged his shoulders. "First it was for glory, then it was because I didn't have anything else to do. Now, not really sure. You?"

Kiyoshi's answer seemed honest, so Anzar said, "She'll help me find the Anathema, and what they carry."

"A treasure?" Kiyoshi asked.

Now it was Anzar's turn to lift his shoulders. "No idea."

Kiyoshi nodded, and smiled. "We," and he lowered his tone a little more, "are something of a sorry group."

Anzar nodded.

"Doesn't mean we aren't going to get the glory," Kiyoshi said, and smiled wolfishly.

There was something forced to that smile, but Anzar answered it with one of his own. If they lost their confidence, or their belief in the powers of the Dragons, they lost everything.

"Got some attention, ya," Tolsay said from up front.

"Where?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Comin' in port high angle. Probably a warbird, one of Lookshy's," the pilot said.

Not in a good place for an outside view Anzar could only crane his neck in an attempt to peer out one of the smaller windows.

A sudden scream sounded from outside the Heart Spear, Anzar could feel it in his chest.

"What was that?" Grace asked, from further up in the cabin.

"Turned, didn't it," Tolsay said. "Scream pretty loud when they turn, ya."

"What is it doing?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Dippin' its wings, tellin' us to follow."

"Follow where?"

"Got ta follow to find out. Their show, ya."

"Then follow," Could Hands said.

"Got ya," Tolsay told her.

They flew on for several more minutes before descending. It was not until Anzar exited the craft that he was able to see where they were. It was a relatively unremarkable stretch of land, a landing field on a flat piece of terrain, near a river. It looked as if the area had been further flattened and then sown with grass. At the far end of the strip were several buildings that had the look of barracks.

The warbird had put down not too far off, its pilot getting out of the craft, while from the other side approached a group of about twenty men, wearing the armour of light infantry, and led by a tall man in white, jade plate.

The leader of the soldiers looked them over, then asked, "What business do you have flying into Lookshy's air space?"

It was Cloud Hands who spoke. "I am Abbess Cloud Hands, from Greyfalls. We are following a pair of Anathema. We have reason to believe that they are in Lookshy."

Anzar wondered what the soldiers of Lookshy would do, for Cloud Hands had announced their affiliation with the Realm and her statement about the presence of Anathema in Lookshy could be considered an insult.

However the man in the white jade armour simply said, "You are a Wyld Hunt?"

"Yes, diminished from our conflict with the Anathema, as much as it pains me to admit it."

"You may, if you wish, travel to Lookshy and speak with the authorities there."

Anzar suspected that Cloud Hands was a little surprised at how quickly the man had made a decision, as she said nothing for a few seconds.

"We do," she said.

He nodded. "Follow the warbird in then. Do not deviate from the course it sets."

And that was it. The man ordered his troops to move off the landing field and then warbird pilot began strapping into the craft.

"That was very quick," Anzar said to Cloud Hands.

"Yes. They must know of the Anathema already and now they want more information."

"Sounds like they got clear then, ya," Tolsay said, climbing back into his air ship.

"I am afraid that may be the case."

Not long afterwards they were following the warbrid, towards Lookshy.

* * *

They were directed to put down on a landing field, several miles from Lookshy proper, though within the area of farms that surrounded the city. Soldiers awaited them, and there were several field tents set up. Cloud Hands could not be sure, but she thought it looked very recent. All put together for them; maybe to keep them out of the city, maybe just to present a certain image.

Tolsay put his ship down gently upon the field, not far from where a group of soldiers waited.

"I shall do the talking," Cloud Hands said, "at least until we have a better idea of the situation."

The others deferred to her judgement.

A small squad of gunzosha, led by a dragon blooded officer, awaited them. She wore a kimono, and carried a daiklaive at her side. She was pretty enough, with long, blonde hair, and blue eyes, but there was something about her that made it look as if she had recently recovered from a sickness.

"May I have your names?" she asked, her gaze taking them all in.

Cloud Hands quickly introduced those with her, and herself.

"My name is Namiko Teresu," she told them, politely enough. "Would you please come this way," she said, not quite an order, but more than a polite suggestion.

As Cloud Hands and the others followed after Namiko the gunzosha fell in around them, almost an honour guard, but not quite. Namiko led them to a large tent, the silk heavy with jade thread, suggesting the tent was much more than it looked. When she passed through the opening Cloud Hands felt the prickle of contained essence upon her skin.

Within was a field office, busy with a number of individuals moving about. It was something of a sham, Cloud Hands thought. It was a good sham; that this camp had always been here and not just set up for Cloud Hands and the others.

It was obvious who was in charge there. A young looking, slight woman, with fiery red hair; the way she sat suggesting a barely controlled temper.

"Taimyo Karal Linwei," Namiko said in way of introduction.

Linwei looked them over, her gaze lingering on Cloud Hands before she said, "Abbess of Greyfalls, you are far from home."

Cloud Hands dipped her head politely and said, "It is so, for I hunt Anathema."

The Taimyo nodded. "And you lead a Wyld Hunt," she said, almost making it a question as she took in those around Cloud Hands.

Cloud Hands nodded. "Our numbers have been reduced by the need to travel quickly."

"Truly your need for speed must be great."

Politely Cloud Hands dipped her head, acknowledging the other woman, but not saying anything.

"You believe that the Anathema are in this area?" Linwei asked.

"We have been following them. In Nexus the man called Heron Jade Eyes purchased three ships and sailed them to Lookshy."

The calm way that Linwei and Namiko took that news made Cloud Hands certain that they already knew what Heron Jade Eyes and the child were.

"Heron Jade Eyes did in fact come here," Linwei told her. "Perhaps you might tell me how you came to be hunting him, and I will of course share with you what happened in Lookshy."

"Of course," Cloud Hands said, and then looked towards Anzar. "I will let Ragara Anzar begin the tale, for he was the one who first brought the news to me."

Anzar stepped to the fore and quickly told his part of the story, from finding the Anathema child in Vinleau, to his coming to Greyfalls. Cloud Hands took over then, of the Wyld Hunt and its ultimate and near total destruction at the hands of the two Anathema. She found telling it brought the memories of her defeat back strong, as well as the words of the demon that had beaten her.

Those in the tent listened closely; the soldiers who were busying themselves about the field tent pretending not to.

Finally Cloud Hands brought the tale to the present.

"It seems," Linwei said, "that you are very focused on the hunt of this Anathema."

Cloud Hands nodded. "As is the duty of any true followers of the Dragons."

Linwei nodded. "Yes, I suppose you believe that. However your hunt almost borders on recklessness and compulsion."

Cloud Hands said nothing, for she did not trust her voice at the moment. The accusation hit too close.

"If we had left the hunt, the Anathema may have escaped us!" That was Grace, coming to Cloud Hands defence, whether she knew it or not.

Having found her composure again Cloud Hands nodded. "The Anathema travel fast. It was only the blessing of the Dragons that led us here. Had we waited longer we might have never found them, at least not before they had brought even more suffering to the world."

Linwei nodded, but Cloud Hands was not certain if Linwei really believed her. "Heron Jade Eyes came here with three ships of very valuable trade goods, much of it exactly what we needed. This of course was considered suspicious, and there were agents assigned to watch him." So saying she looked towards Namiko.

Namiko took a step forward, not quite even with Linwei. "He brought with him a girl, who he said was his daughter, and the girl's nanny, who remains within Lookshy."

Cloud Hands held herself back from demanding to talk to the nanny, knowing it was not the time.

"Heron Jade Eyes purchased a great deal of material from Lookshy, some of it not immediately available. That required his staying and waiting, which was suspicious," she paused for a moment and looked at Cloud Hands and those with her, as if daring them to speak some criticism, "but the value of the goods did not make it completely out of the question that the actions were those of a mostly honest merchant.

"He was offered lodgings in the city, an agent put in his household. Members of the Legion befriended him, so as to spend time with him, usually over the card table."

"What about the girl?" Anzar asked.

Namiko frowned. "I will admit that we did not really consider the girl to be of any real interest. However, she made the acquaintance of several children, and we have had some testimony from them about the actions she was involved in."

"I would like to speak to them," Anzar said.

"No." Linwei's tone was cool, but there was a finality behind it that would not be argued with. "The girl did nothing that was not in any way odd for a child of her age, nor are the children under any sort of compulsion, demonic or otherwise. And," she paused, "I have read some dispatches about events in Vinleau, and I would not have you dealing with the children in Lookshy."

Anzar frowned, the muscle along his jaw line twitching.

Namiko continued as if not interrupted. "During the time that Heron Jade Eyes was under observation he did nothing to make him seem anything other than a merchant and gambler."

"Nothing?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Nothing," Namiko told her, and then paused, "until of course the night he fled.

"At the point we had no reason to believe that Heron Jade Eyes was anything but what he presented himself as. But an assassin had come to the city; we believe to target the girl. The assassin killed our agent in the house, as well as several of our soldiers. She might have killed me, if not for Heron Jade Eyes stepping forward to save me. In doing so he of course revealed himself as much more that we had believed."

"What about the assassin?"

The questions surprised Cloud Hands, for the speaker was someone she had almost forgotten was with them. She looked over her shoulder at Grace's companion, Iris, wondering why the woman had asked such a question.

"The assassin was a monster," Namiko said, and Cloud Hands returned her attention to Namiko, surprised to note the look of anger on the woman's face. "She was a killer, with a bow of that moaned softly as each arrow left it, dressed like a doll, but more demon than doll. She killed without remorse, and I say again it was only Heron Jade Eyes' actions that kept me alive."

"Chuzei," Linwei said, her tone flat, and yet carrying a subtle edge to it that Cloud Hands could only assume was warning. Cloud Hands shifted her gaze between the two and realized that Namiko did not see Heron Jade Eyes as a monster. She suddenly felt so angry that she had to hold herself completely still lest she do something impolitic.

The subtle warning seemed to have an effect on Namiko, for she continued, obviously in control of herself. "I was wounded, but I know that there were others who joined with Heron Jade Eyes to drive off the assassin. One was a horse trader the Legion had had dealings with before, a woman named Lightning. The other was called Sparrow, and at the moment we know little about her.

"They fled the city. At the same time the three ships put out into the river, sailing away in the darkness. We have since managed to take one of those ships, but neither the crew nor the ship has told us anything of value.

"They, Heron and the others, made it to the other side of the river. There they fought with one of our patrols. The survivors numbered the group as five, including the child, and the tiger. That is the last information we have as to their location."

Cloud Hands said nothing for a moment. "You did not send a Wyld Hunt after them?"

Namiko's eyes narrowed, but Linwei spoke. "We are not in the habit of mobilizing our troops to chase around without a target. Scouts are watching."

It was a not so hidden insult made at Cloud Hands expense, but Cloud Hands did not rise to it. "I understand." She gave some thought to everything that had been said. "I would like to see the house they were using while in the city, to speak to this nanny and the crew of the ship you captured, if you will allow it."

Linwei nodded after a moment. "Your movements within the city will be carefully controlled."

Likely more carefully than the movements of the Anathema had been, she thought, but only said, "Thank you."

* * *

The investigators of Lookshy had been quite thorough. Most of the evidence had already been collected and removed, but small tags had been put in place, indicating exactly what had been taken away. Cloud Hands knelt down on the floor near an area dark with blood stain. The tag indicated that Pira Amilar had died there: One arrow in her shoulder, one in her throat.

Neither the man nor the child had used a bow. So it seemed that, if she were to trust the tag, that some of what she was told could be believed.

Standing, she looked about the area, and then walked through the house. She found a small, once hidden compartment. Tags next to it indicated nothing had been found within it; so something taken. She wondered what it had been. Would it have helped her?

Not far behind her was Namiko, watching her. She turned to look at the woman. "What was left here?"

"Nothing that you would not expect a gambler and business man, or a child, to have, except the tools."

"Tools?"

"A few left behind in the child's room. Wondrous tools, clever."

Cloud Hands looked at the woman who obviously admired the Anathema. Surely Namiko's superiors must see it. She would never allow such a thing where she had power.

Namiko returned Cloud Hand's gaze.

"What of these two women?"

"Lightning and Sparrow."

"Yes. What was the dealing you had with this Lightning woman?"

"She was a horse trader; she provided assistance to the Legion in Marukan."

"How long has she been assisting the Legion?"

"Perhaps four or five years."

"Thank you. I would speak with the nanny," Cloud Hands said.

"Of course," Namiko said, and she smiled.

Cloud Hands did not like that smile. It suggested that Namiko was enjoying things far too much.

* * *

In the end Cloud Hands learned little from the nanny. The girl was a spoiled little hell raiser, too smart for her own good, according to Alicia Hill. However the woman did not paint a picture of a monster, well, at least not a literal one. She sounded much like most Dynast children really.

Cloud Hands also spoke with members of the ship's crew, who were scared, and were willing to tell her whatever they thought she wanted to hear, which made getting information from them a chore. And for all her work to get them to tell her the truth, she learned nothing about Heron Jade Eyes, but that he had been a skilled ship handler, captain and merchant.

As she left the holding rooms where the crew was housed she looked over at Namiko, seeing that mocking smile on her lips. Of course, they had already asked all the questions she had, and all Cloud Hands was doing was wasting her own time. She wanted to be moving, it was as if the soles of her feet itched.

"Lightning," she said again.

"Yes?" Namiko asked, still smiling.

"She must have left the Marukan plains, if she were to come here."

"Of course."

"Why did she leave?"

Namiko lifted her shoulders, let them fall.

Cloud Hands stopped.

Namiko took a few more steps before stopping and turning back to look at her.

"I don't believe you are ignorant of Lightning's reason for leaving."

After a moment Namiko nodded. "She walked away, just left. A Marukan patrol spoke of being attacked, and there were Anathema involved."

"This Sparrow woman?"

"Perhaps," Namiko said. "An investigation has been launched, but personnel are still on route."

It was not much of a lead.

It was hardly any lead at all.

But Cloud Hands had to be on her way, the drive to chase after Heron Jade Eyes was getting stronger.

"We will be leaving soon," she told Namiko.

The young officer nodded, seeming unconcerned.

Clouds Hands wanted to slap her.


	9. Chapter 8: To Stand Against the Enemy

Chapter 8: To Stand Against the Enemy

Bergen Liss knelt on the ridge of the low raise, staring down at a wasteland of tainted ground that only weeks prior had been verdant grass lands. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of his growing beard. How many days since he had last shaved? It was an odd thought, but one that occupied him for a moment.

Nothing moved down below. Whatever had destroyed the land was gone, but Bergen was certain it would be back. He knew the work of the Mask of Winters, for dead lands like the one below had been expanding out from the lands of Thorns, as the monster with two faces sought to expand his reach into the plains.

Finally he stood; tall, with a lean, muscular build, wild, long brown hair escaping the braid he tried to keep it in. He was dressed in leather and light chain, a sabre across his back. He turned and walked towards his horse, a brown stallion named River, a wild looking beast that tossed his head as Bergen approached it.

Bergen grasped the horse's bridle to quiet it, and then quickly mounted. A moment later the horse was racing across the plains, leaving the dead, tainted lands behind.

* * *

The riders of the Ninth Light Skirmishers were some of the best soldiers of the Marukan. Three hundred riders, tasked with observing and where possible standing against the incursions of the Mask of Winters. As Bergen rode into the encampment he greeted the sentries, and those riders he passed on his way to the command tent. They returned his greetings, calling out happily to him, asking him what he had seen. He only laughed, and replied, "Nothing you have to worry about," and continued on. He dismounted easily, slipping the bridle from his horse as he walked along beside it.

Just outside of the tent he left the horse, tapping it gently on the side of its neck so it stopped. He greeted the guards who stood at the entrance, and then crouched slightly to enter.

The interior was cramped and smelled of people, weapons, and smoke. The occupants of the tent were kneeling around a small table, looking over a map. They all looked up when he entered. While most of those gathered greeted him in a friendly manner, the woman who was at the head of the table said nothing, just looked at him, her lips compressed in a tight line.

Bergen met the woman's gaze, and said. "I have a report Commander."

The Commander was quiet for a moment, then she said, "I think we should take a short break. Perhaps ten minutes."

That was signal enough to the people around the table, who stood up and left, filing quickly out of the tent, some of them pausing to put a consoling hand on Bergen's shoulder.

When Bergen and the commander were alone she said, "Sit."

Bergen stepped closer and knelt by the table.

"Just what do you think you were doing?" she asked him.

Bergen sighed. "Damn it Chala, I'm the best choice to go out on these solo scouting missions."

"I can't afford to lose you," she told him.

"I'm just another rider."

"You have the blood of Hiparkes in your veins. That is irreplaceable."

"It was my great grandmother who laid with the stallion; and my grandmother the only one who ever showed the signs of that blood. If I have Hiparkes blood in my veins, you can be sure my mortal blood has debased it."

"That is not what the people out there think, and damn if I am going to let them lose that hope. Not with what is happening now. Hope might be all they have."

"You keep me tethered here and they are going to just see me as another rider." His voice rose slightly.

Chala Misthill sighed and sat back. "Damn it," she said, but with no real passion. "Alright, what did you find?"

He put his finger on the map. "Another area, defiled, but none of the Mask of Winter's forces remain."

"They are gods damned staging areas," Chala said. "Gods damned ruined lands that monster can march his troops into, but isn't going to leave any there, nothing for us to show to the cowards of the River provinces."

Bergen nodded. He traced his finger across the map. "The attack will come soon. I'm sure of it."

Chala nodded. She was an older woman, threads of grey amongst her brown hair, laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, faint creases on her tanned face. Her brown eyes were dark with worry and fatigue. "I'll send word to the forces at the Lookshy Redoubt, the fortified range towns and the Spire. Perhaps it will be enough to get forces moving. Assuming the Mayhiros listen." She shook her head.

Bergen smiled, wanting to take some of the concern from her shoulders. "We're good. We'll be alright."

"You are a crap liar," she told him, but smiled anyway. "Okay, let's get my command staff back in here. You can brief them and then we can figure out how we are going to deal with the attack we know has to be coming."

* * *

Cloud Hands decided it was time to leave. The Gentes of Lookshy had provided all the help they were willing, and just maybe all they help they actually could. She looked back at the city, frowning slightly, trying to understand why she felt things were wrong. It might be simply that Lookshy was Lookshy, and she was of the Realm.

She turned away from the city and looked over at Tolsay. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Soon as ya say," he told her.

"Good."

"So you got a place ta go, ya?"

She nodded. "We'll be going to the Marukan Alliance."

"Ya? Why?"

"It is a place to start. The two women who joined with our targets were last seen in the Alliance territories, before they were in Lookshy." She paused. "There is also the presence of the Mask of Winters."

"You think they're allies with the Mask, ya?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. However, at Metagalpa, they fought against the forces of the dead."

"So ya think they got a beef with the dead?" She sighed. "I really have no idea. If I can find out more about these two, Lightning and Sparrow, I might be able to do something."

"Know that they say that Linwei's daughter is Anathema, ya?"

"What?"

"No one's sayin' where she might hear, but they're talkin'. It's significant," he sounded the word out, one syllable at a time, "ya,"

She nodded, thinking about it. "She does not yet believe her daughter is a monster."

"Or she's tryin' ta be sure of it, ya. Might be hard ta kill your kid."

"It might explain a lot. But why put Namiko and her together? Unless the leaders of Lookshy are looking for proof..."

"Could be," Tolsay said. "Course might be that they don't want to see it, ya. And Linwei is just doing what she wants. Figure someone who likes Anathema might be useful to her, ya?"

"Ya, I mean yes. But it is all speculation and does not help us. We'll go to the Alliance and see what we can learn there."

"And if we learn nothin'?"

"Then we keep going until we do learn something."

He shrugged his shoulders and then said, "Got someone comin'."

Cloud Hands looked where Tolsay was looking. The camp around them was still busy with fake activity, but the activity seemed just a little more genuine when Namiko passed through the lines on her way to where Cloud Hands stood.

She stopped some distance off, just outside of listening range (though there were many charms that made that polite space irrelevant) and waited. When Cloud Hands nodded she approached. She held small pouch in her hand and when she closed she held it out to Cloud Hands. "This contains orders from Taimyo Karal Linwei as well as a jade seal to back them up. You will be able to request aid and information from any Lookshy personnel you might encounter, for the next thirty days."

Cloud Hands did her best to hide her surprise at the offer of help and reached out to take the pouch. "Thank you," she said.

Namiko nodded as she released it. "We will expect you to share any information you learn about the Anathema, and any aid that might be provided will be limited by the unit's current operational standing."

"I understand," Cloud Hands told her, not at all surprised by that stipulation.

"Very well," Namiko said, and once again smiled that smile that made Cloud Hands seethe, "I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Cloud Hands said, doing her best to keep her words from coming across clipped.

Namiko turned and walked away.

"She playin' some sort of game, ya?"

"Perhaps," Cloud Hands said. "Or maybe that's just the way she is." Putting Namiko from her mind she looked to the pouch that she had been given, feeling the solid weight of the jade within. "I'll gather the others and then we leave."

Tolsay nodded.

* * *

The dead had come shortly before the sun set the previous day; shambling into the areas of shadow land near the Wind Fire Ridge. The Ninth Light had arrived not long after the dead had started massing. Chala did not like the fact that they would be fighting in the dark, but she was certain the dead would press forward if she failed to stop them.

When they did start to push forward she sent up alchemical flares, each one a bright light that hung over the battle field. It was nowhere near as good as sunlight, but at least it would allow the horses to see where they were stepping.

The dead outnumbered them nearly five to one, with shambling corpses, screaming hungry ghosts, and the silent war ghosts that led the others.

Chala had come to learn a great deal about the dead in the last few years, more than she had wanted.

"We'll have to hit them hard," she said to her commanders. "Break their advance, use our speed, force them to chase us, wheel back and hit them when they are strung out. The Exorcists will put up what wards they can, creating areas we can fall back to and regroup."

Her officers looked uncertain but did not speak against her. The plan was the best they had, and the only other option would be retreat and leave the land to the dead.

No one was willing to do that. Not while they had a chance.

Even outnumbered as they were Chala had not given up hope for victory. The shambling dead and the hungry ghosts were not the best soldiers; they had their limits, weaknesses that could be exploited. It would depend on how effective the war ghosts were at keeping order.

"We'll split up into two wings, I'll command one, Bergen the other."

"Understood Commander," Bergen said, smiling.

She knew that the smile had to be false, that he was as worried as she was, but she took heart in it. "May Hiparkes guide our mounts. May our lances find our enemies' hearts. May our arrows fly true."

"They're coming!" one of the watchers called out, only a hint of fear in his tone. That made Chala proud.

"Move out!" she yelled.

* * *

The initial charge had proven effective. Chala had led it, crashing into the leading rank before wheeling her force around and retreating. When the enemy charged after her, becoming stretched out as they did so, Bergen led his force in, cutting across the enemy, scattering and destroying many of them.

Then Bergen wheeled his force around and hit the main force. He retreated, leading the dead after him, and it was Chala's turn to cut across the enemy. Then she was charging the enemy again.

It was not a manoeuvre that could not keep working, but Chala thought that she might make it work several more times. It was the only option she had.

* * *

Bergen laid about him with his sabre, the curved blade spitting open the heads of zombies. All around him were the dead, mixing amongst the horses and riders. The last attack they had made, as Chala had cut through the zombies, as he had wheeled about to attack again, the scattered dead had suddenly come together, moving so fast some had even damaged their bodies.

In a moment the tide of the battle had turned, as haunting horns had echoed across the battlefield. Bergen had recognized those horns, and their tone had sent chills down his spine. They were surrounded and cut off from retreat, the dead surging against their lines. As he slashed down on a particularly large zombie, taking its arm off, he did not know if they could escape.

Across the field of battle, in the now sputtering light of flares hanging high above, he met Chala's gaze across a field of dead. She knew the situation as well as he did.

He lifted his sword in salute.

She returned the gesture.

Grim smile on his face he called out over the sound of battle, "Tighten up your lines! Lancers to the fore! Keep those dead bastards back! Archers, find clear ground and fire!" The orders would not win the battle, they would not even save them, but they might buy some time and give the men heart.

Bergen almost missed the shift in the battle that told him something had changed.

The explosions of flame were something he first thought must be the work of the enemy; some sort of burning dead that he was certain that he would see soon enough. It was not until he saw the horse that he knew that things had changed.

The blood of Hiparkes might be debased in his veins, but it was strong enough to recognize the horse was no earthly beast. It was grey, and tall, with steel shod hooves that crushed the dead beneath them.

The fire rolling out from either side of it made him aware that the horse had a rider.

As he watched horse and rider cut through the enemy, for a moment he thought that the rider had more than two arms, for a flashing red daikliave cut to either side of the horse. Of course it was only two people riding, the one on front with flame weapons and the one behind with a jade daiklaive.

The attack, in both its unexpectedness and its violence, broke the dead's momentum; put them in disarray, for a time. With that breathing room the riders of the Ninth Light managed to regroup, tightening their ranks, setting themselves up to defend when the dead once again pressed forward.

Their saviours, two women, one tall, the other not so much, upon that grey stallion, rode towards them. Once they were close Bergen realized the rider in front was not a woman, though a man as beautiful as any. He carried red jade flame weapons, heat radiating up from the barrels.

Chala was there beside him, having ridden quickly, her horse, Blizzard, was breathing hard, flanks soaked with sweat. "This may seem a very ungrateful question," she said, looking about the field, "but who are you and what in the hells are you doing here?"

The woman shifted and leapt from the grey stallion, landing in the empty saddle of a horse of one of the fallen soldiers. It was an overly familiar action, perhaps even disrespectful, but Bergen said nothing. The woman was not an expert rider, but she had good balance and settled herself easily. "I am Sparrow," she said. "This is Heron. We're here to stop the Mask of Winter's forces' advance and save you."

What sort of woman made such a calm, bold statement? There was no doubt in her voice; none at all.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Chala asked, her tone a mix between curiosity and incredulity.

"You have more of those flares?"

Chala nodded. "Yes," she said, looking around, obviously watching for the enemy to push forward again.

"Send them up. We'll be moving fast and it won't do to have any horse breaking a leg. Put your lancers in the front to clear our way, archers in the back to slow pursuit. We'll be falling back to the top of the ridge."

It was, Bergen thought, a good plan, but it had one glaring flaw and Chala spoke it before he did.

"The dead will rip into us the moment we try to withdraw."

The woman, Sparrow, shook her head. "Heron will be watching our rear."

"One man?" Chala obviously did not believe it.

"One man," Heron said. He was loading the odd flame weapons, slipping shells into a magazine. "I will hit them with fire and anger. Dragon and I will hold them off." He slapped the magazine into the flame piece's grip. "Believe me. Trust Sparrow."

There was weight to his words, and Bergen found himself nodding, as was Chala. He believed Heron, he trusted Sparrow.

"Order the men to form up, I'll take the point," Sparrow said; tone all business, someone who was used to being obeyed.

And they obeyed her. Chala called out the orders, the riders around them moved quickly.

Bergen watched as Heron and Sparrow brought their horses close together. "Don't make it look too easy." He heard Sparrow say to Heron.

Heron smiled, so beautiful, and nodded.

"Send up the flares!" Sparrow called out as she wheeled her horse around and sent it cantering towards the front of the unit.

Heron and Dragon, seeming as one for a moment to Bergen, turned and charged towards the dead. Blasts of flame went up from his weapons as he hit their ranks.

"On me, move out," he heard Sparrow call, heard Chala relay.

As the horses and men began their retreat Bergen remained where he was for several seconds, watching as one man and one horse held the advance of the dead, just as promised.

"Bergen," someone called.

He looked and saw that the unit was almost passed him, the line of archers coming even with him. He took one look back towards Heron, and then spurred River to catch up.

Already the front lines were hitting the scattered ranks of the dead, breaking through. The dead did try to pursue, but Heron kept them off balance, and the archers-Bergen lent his bow to the effort-kept the dead from mounting an effective chase.

As they crested the raise, having successfully disengaged, he heard Chala calling out, sending the lancers to take the place of the archers. He turned again to look towards the army of the dead and was amazed to see Heron racing back towards the lines. That he still lived was nothing short of amazing, but that the dead seemed unwilling to follow him was what was unbelievable.

It took him several moments before he realized there was an argument happening. He looked towards the noise. Near the head of the unit he saw Chala and Sparrow speaking, their voices raised. He spurred his horse forward and heard Chala say, "...can't be serious."

"Yes I can. We turn about and hit them."

"I already tried that, and you saw the results."

Did Sparrow really expect them to attack again?

"Your basic plan was sound, but we have other options now."

She obviously did.

"Our option is to retreat."

"And give up more of your country?"

It was a telling thing to say, and it was obvious that it was not something Chala wanted to hear.

Before more words could be exchanged, quite possibly angry words, Heron arrived, his big, grey stallion looking as if it had just finished a light warmup instead of such a fast run. "They'll keep taking your land," he said, as if he had always been part of the conversation. "This time moving faster, making less pretence, unless you stop them."

The stallion tossed its head and nickered, as if agreeing with what Heron said.

That, Bergen thought, was a powerful effect. The people of Marukan could not easily ignore a man on a horse like that.

"You can retreat," Heron said, "hope that Lookshy and the rest of the scavenger lands will move to help you this time; hope that the Mask of Winters stops." He had raised his voice, more people gathering around to listen. "All you have is hope, and hope is not enough. Now it is time to turn around and fight. Break their advance, smash it, and send them retreating back."

"They are led by the ghost Red Tooth," Chala said. "I saw him. I heard his horns."

Bergen knew that as well, for he had heard the horns, and recognized them, and the confirmation made him a little fearful.

"The ghost is old," Chala told Heron and Sparrow. "A leader of other ghosts, he's been around for more than a century. We can't beat him."

"I promise, follow me and tonight Red Tooth is ended," Sparrow said.

Bergen found himself wanting to believe that.

"It's insane," Chala said, but her tone was uncertain.

"Tonight Red Tooth ends," Sparrow said, and turned her borrowed horse about, setting it walking back towards the approaching host of the dead.

Heron smiled, and then his horse spun about and trotted after Sparrow.

Bergen stared after them, and then turned towards Chala. Their gazes met. He lifted his shoulders, and then tugged on his horses reigns and went after the two of them.

Chala was only a few steps behind, and the rest of the Ninth Light Skirmishers followed quickly enough.

Sparrow started calling out orders, splitting the force into four separate sections. She would lead a force of heavy lancers, Heron would take outriders, scouts, and archers; Bergen and Chala were each put in lead of a mixed force. It was amazing how quickly Sparrow had taken control, become their leader.

"Go!" Sparrow called to Heron, and Heron galloped off, to lead his fast forces around the dead so as to hit them from behind.

As Heron rode off in front, the three remaining sections stayed together, riding as if one unit.

At Sparrow's command Bergen took his section off, cutting to the right, while on the other side of the advance Chala split to the left. Sparrow, red jade daiklaive shining in the light of the flares floating above, led her heavy force forward.

The timing was precise, and, as Sparrow had dictated, all four forces hit the massed army of the dead at nearly the same moment.

The four forces spiralled inwards, fighting their way through.

Bergen heard the screams of horses and men, and told himself not to think of the loss, to trust in his soldiers, to trust in Sparrow, a woman he had not met until only a short time ago. Don't think on that, he told himself, and instead focused on the rise and fall of his blade, and the dead that fell and scattered before him.

And then the four forces joined in the centre, coming together, with Sparrow in the lead.

He saw Sparrow face off against the hulking form of Red Tooth, the old ghost dressed in his black armour. Sparrow's sword struck three times. The first knocked the ghost's huge sword up and out of guard. The second blow took the ghost's arm off below its shoulder. The third blow removed the ghost's helm and the head within.

An ancient ghost, defeated so quickly, so effortlessly, and somehow Bergen knew that as Sparrow had said, the ghost was ended.

"Circle defence!" Sparrow called out as her horse trampled the ghost's fallen armour beneath its hooves. "Lancers to the perimeter, prepare to charge!"

Bergen, claimed by the excitement, found himself on the perimeter, his sword ready.

When Sparrow ordered the charge he found himself laughing as he urged his tired horse on.

* * *

The sun rose over a battlefield, the fallen bodies of zombies, and the empty armour of ghosts lay amongst the relatively small number of fallen riders. Chala sat upon Blizzard, staring down at the site. They had won. Sparrow had led them to victory, Heron had anchored her efforts. Chala knew she had played her part, but she also knew she had been far from vital to the victory.

"You kept us alive long enough," Bergen said from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder. "What?"

"You kept us alive. Sparrow might have led us to victory, but you kept us alive."

Chala brushed dirty hair, wet with sweat and blood, from her face. "That obvious?"

"I just know you well I guess." He directed his River next to her Blizzard and then looked to where Heron and Sparrow spoke, like she and Bergen spoke.

"Can we trust them?" she asked.

For a few seconds Bergen said nothing, and then he nodded. "We can. We have to."

"Which one is it?"

Bergen did not answer and Chala did not push him.

The answer did not matter, not when the survival of their homeland was at stake.

* * *

"I wish to purchase the child," the ghost said, her nasal tone thick with scorn.

Lightning sighed and looked over the speaker. She was obviously wealthy, as ghosts went, and in life she had likely been beautiful, and however she had died had not left much harm to her corpus. This ghost was nothing but trouble, she was sure of that.

The child she wished to purchase was Ivory.

"I'm afraid I can't sell her," Lightning said, politely, not wanting to incur the anger of a ghost that might have some powerful contacts, and perhaps powers of her own.

"You say that as if you have a choice," the ghost said. "In life I collected children, and I have seen no reason to let death get in my way," she explained, as if she might shock Lightning. "So you can either sell her, and therefore get some compensation, or I can have her taken away, in which case you get hurt."

Lightning wondered if there was a ghost in all of Thorns who was not a complete prick.

She suspected not.

"But it is not my choice. It is the child's."

The ghost laughed. "Don't be stupid. Children are powerless and..." She stopped, frowned, looked down at the tip of the golden blade that had pierced her back to front. She opened her mouth, but made no sound, and a moment later she was gone.

Ivory sheathed her short daiklaive under her long cloak. "I feel wrong when I do that," she said.

Lightning had cut Ivory's hair short, and dyed it black. The girl had screamed and cried over it, and for a few days following had been a complete, spoiled, dynastic bitch. She was probably the first child that Lightning had seriously, truly, wanted to hurt.

"The ghost is better gone."

Ivory nodded. "I don't mind that I ended her, in fact I kind of liked it."

Very creepy, Lightning thought.

"I just feel," she paused, "as if I did something wrong." She lifted her shoulders. "I don't know why."

"Worry about it later," Lightning said. "Let's see if we can reach our destination without attracting any further attention."

"It's not my fault the ghost liked children," Ivory said, pouting.

"You're adorable when you pout, so stop it."

"That's not fair. I can't help it."

Lightning looked at Ivory for a few seconds. "You are a very well presented image of innocence, and I suspect you spent a lot of time working on that."

Ivory frowned. "I'm only a little girl for so long," she said, "seems silly to spend that much time on it." She looked up at Lightning, all wide eyed and guileless.

"You are good," Lightning told her. "I almost believe you. Now let's go." She reached out, grabbed the hood of Ivory's cloak, and pulled it over her head. "Keep a low profile."

Ivory mumbled something insulting that Lightning pretended not to hear.

As Lightning stepped out of the cul-de-sac where they had ambushed the ghost she recalled what Thorns had been like before the coming of the Mask of Winters. Once familiar streets and structures were long gone, destroyed in the battle, or changed by the strange demands of the dead. "I think we're close," she said.

"Good," Ivory said, "I'm getting tired of walking."

"Yeah," Lightning agreed.

Ahead of them the street opened up into a plaza; tattered awnings hung from bent frames, in the centre a fountain made gurgling noises, with the occasional splash of dirty water coming from the pitted stone figure that was the fountain's only remaining decoration.

"This is it," Lightning said. She crossed the cracked stones of the plaza and came to stand in front of a door covered in a dark blue paint. She looked back to make sure that Ivory followed and then slapped her hand against the wood, the dull thump speaking of its thickness.

From behind the door she picked out the sound of movement, guessed that there was someone on the other side, a portal guard of sorts. They were trying to be quiet, but Lightning's hearing was sharp, and the padded footfalls in the hall beyond came to her.

She waited, assuming the guard had gone further into the house, to report. Not long afterwards she head a sound from above and looked up. Someone near the second floor window had twitched the shutter aside slightly. She caught the gaze of a young man and made a rude gesture. She smiled as the shutter snapped shut with an audible click.

"What are you doing?" Ivory asked from behind her.

"Don't worry about it," she said.

They waited, uncomfortably exposed, for a minute or two before she heard the sound of a heavy bolt sliding, and then the door was pushed open by the same young man she had seen in the window. "Please, come in," he said, his tone soft. He had a haunted look, dark circles around his eyes.

Lightning stepped forward, stayed in the threshold until Ivory had entered, then moved into the house. The young man shut and bolted the door behind them. She watched as he tested the door's locks. Once he was satisfied he bowed to Lightning, a slight dip of his head, and said, "Follow me please."

The house was large, deep, heavy wood pressed around them, thick beams above. It was a fortress, one mostly made of wood, but a fortress still. She watched as Ivory ran her hand across the panelling, the girl nearly skipping. It made her wonder what secrets the house hid, what tricks of essence might have been used in its construction and maintenance.

Their guide said nothing, just led them quickly down halls, up stairs, and finally stopping before a large set of double doors.

A pair of men stood outside the doors, wearing great coats of boiled leather, short swords and knifes at their belts - good weapons for fighting indoors Lightning thought.

"These them?" one of the men asked.

"Yes," the guide said, sounding a little breathless, as well as a hint of disbelief in his tone, as if the to say, 'who else would they be?'

The guard to the right of the door reached over and knocked on the wood, three short taps, two long. He waited a moment and then pushed the door open. "You can go in."

Lightning put a hand on Ivory's shoulder and directed her into the room.

The room beyond the door was well lit, a large table in the centre, maps and journals scattered over it. There was one woman within, not quite at her middle years, her blonde hair long and untidy, brown eyes red from lack of sleep, probably. She wore expensive clothing that had not been well cared for. She sat at the table, shifting the maps around, and did not look up until Lightning came to almost stand above her.

"Hello Daddy," she said.

"Don't give me that daddy crap Clarissa. It's not funny. Ivory, this is Clarissa, Clarissa, this is Ivory."

"Is this my new little sister Daddy?"

Lightning wanted to scream. This woman always made her feel that way.

"We're just working together," Ivory said as she pulled the hood away from her face.

"And Luna forbid I have a daughter like this."

"You've got golden eyes," Clarissa said. "That's wonderful."

Like the little attention whore she was, Lightning thought, Ivory glowed under the praise, and smiled. "Thank you," she said, and then, "You're father held Lightning's Exaltation before, didn't he?"

Clarissa clapped her hands. "She is wonderfully smart Daddy."

Lightning took a few, long strides across the room, and then, methodically, began to bang her head against one of the thick support beams until her head began to hurt. She then spun around, wiped some blood off her forehead with the back of her hand, and, stating each would precisely, "I am not your father Clarissa, I don't care what you think."

"That's what you said to me the first time we met Daddy. You said it was a test."

Ivory stared at Lighting, looking a little taken a back, then turned to Clarissa and asked, "How old are you?"

Clarissa smiled. "As a child you get to ask that question of a lady. I'm almost two hundred years old." She smiled again, and then said, "Come sit on my lap."

Ivory apparently did not need a second invitation, for she let the cloak slip from her shoulders, her sheathed swords following, and then allowed Clarissa to pick her up and sit her on her lap. "So, tell me Ivory, why did you and Daddy come to see me? Would you like some sweets?"

"Yes," Ivory said.

Clarissa scattered some paper around and then found a small bowl full of hard candies. "Difficult to get in Thorns these days," she explained, pulling the bowl close. "The dead don't care much for it."

Ivory picked up one of the candies, a small ball that looked like black glass, and put it into her mouth. "Delicious," she said around the sweet. And then, "We want information about Thorns."

Clarissa nodded, as she shifted Ivory about slightly and then pulled a map across the table so it was in front of them. "This is the Thorns that was."

Lightning stepped closer to watch, figuring if Ivory was taking her attention, she could put up with Clarissa. Daddy indeed!

"Thorns before the invasion?" Ivory asked.

"Yes. In a way, you can look at this as the ghost of the city."

"Is that significant?" Ivory asked.

"It could be. We are dealing with the Underworld bleed through. However I am still investigating it." She put the map aside and reached for another. "This is Thorns as it is now. I suspect outside of the Mask of Winter's people this is perhaps the best map of the city you will find."

Ivory leaned forward to look at the map. "Are you a spy master?" Ivory asked.

"Yes." She looked over at Lightning.

Lightning nodded.

"The Silver Pact, the Lunars, they put me here, shortly before the Mask of Winters invaded. Not that they had a clue that the Mask was going to invade. I've been here ever since, uncovering every bit of information I could find on what the Mask and the other Death Lords are planning."

"We think he is going to destroy Lookshy," Ivory said, still examining the map. "And Sparrow, Sparrow is Lightning's friend; she thinks the Mask is going to launch an attack on all of the Hundred Kingdoms."

"Sounds plausible," Clarissa said, not sounding particularly surprised.

"Has he increased his military forces, redeployed them?" Lightning asked.

"Ever since he first took Thorns Daddy," Clarissa said. "He is always pushing at his borders, but so far, other than nibbling away at the lands of the Marukan Alliance, he has appeared content to rule over Thorns." She paused for a moment. "Some of my superiors think he is happy to sit here, seeking fear and respect and validation from the other rulers of the Hundred Kingdoms, but they are fools. He wants the rest of the Hundred Kingdoms, as much as he can grasp." She reached out and closed her right hand in the air to illustrate her point. "If your Sparrow thinks that he is going to launch an attack, I have no reason to disagree."

"He's put something in Lookshy," Ivory said. "Me and Heron tried to find it, but we had to go when the Death Knight came to kill me. Heron said maybe we can find out what is in Lookshy by coming to Thorns. Can I have another Candy?"

Clarissa laughed. "Help yourself Ivory."

Ivory took another candy from the bowl.

"If I was looking for records, or something that might help me figure out what the Mask's plans might be, there are three places I would look. The first, obvious, and least promising, is the Palace of the Autocrat." She placed her finger in the centre of the map. "Next is the House of Bone and Swords, where his ministry of the Army operates from. Almost directly across from Shacklemaw." She slid her finger north east on the map. "Few places in the city are as well guarded. And finally, the most likely place is the Mask's fortress, atop of Juggernaut."

Lightning listened and when Clarissa finished she asked, "Can you help us narrow it down?"

"Of course I can Daddy. I have agents ready, all triple blind and dead allied. They won't give us away when they are captured. We'll lose a lot, but as you taught me, that is acceptable."

Lightning's protest that she had taught Clarissa nothing of the sort died unsaid. She wondered if Dagger Tooth, Clarissa's father, the one who had carried her shard before her, had set Clarissa up to teach whoever inherited his power.

The lesson that she had learned from Clarissa was one of the ruthlessness that was often required to succeed in Creation.

"Can I ask you something Daddy?"

Lost in thought, Lightning did not argue the title, but instead said, "What?"

"There is a tiger in this room with us and I am curious if you know anything about it."

"That's Hu," Ivory said. "He's my friend."

"A Lunar?"

Lightning shook her head.

Clarissa looked over that dark patch of shadow that Hu sat in, and Lightning was pretty certain he was staring back. She smiled. "I approve of your friend Ivory," she said.

Ivory seemed quite pleased.

Lightning, who had been watching the interplay between Clarissa and Hu found herself wondering about the tiger, and wondering if the half caste girl knew more than she was saying.

It was not the first time she had felt that way about her predecessor's daughter, and she was certain it would not be the last.


	10. Chapter 9: Dance of the Exalts

Chapter 9: Dance of the Exalts

* * *

Courtesan followed the old path, the dead path, the path that called to her, as the whispers in her mind goaded her on. She moved quickly, silently, often no more than a shadow amongst shadows. She avoided threats where she could and destroyed that which would not be avoided. At times she rested peacefully in those places touched by death.

The journey left its mark on her wardrobe, for it was not meant for the travel she underwent. The walker In Darkness had envisioned her more a doll than anything else, needing servants to keep her looking just right. As she leapt high into the canopy of a tree, landing crouched upon a tree branch, she thought she would not mind such a state.

To travel in fine carriages, with servants to take care of the minor details as she focused on death, that would not be such a bad thing. Not at all.

Below her she looked down on a clearing in the forest. Not a natural one by any means; axes had felled the trees and shovels had removed the stumps. Within a space defined by a simple, wooden palisade were neatly ordered tents around a parade ground in the centre.

No cook fires marred the perfection below, nor were there odious latrines. The dead had no use for such things, and Courtesan knew for certain that the dead were the ones in the camp below.

Already she came upon the lands that the Mask of Winters claimed. That Death Lord was enemy to the one that she served, but the pressing demands of the whispers cared little for such things. Courtesan knew that she should, for she did not think she would receive a welcome in these lands.

But she really had no choice.

She descended rapidly, silently, circling the camp. Outside the palisades zombies roamed, shuffling mindlessly about, though Courtesan did not know if they were there as guards of a sort, or if the dead in the camp found the animated corpses foul and disturbing.

They were poor guards, for she easily avoided them.

Only once did she consider readying her bow of soul steel. A group of mounted ghosts rode close by, and she thought she might have been discovered. But they continued on, unaware of her presence. There was not a single Abyssal among them and so they were not a credible threat. They rode fast, a sizeable force of war ghosts, heading to the North.

Where were they running off to? She was curious, for part of her knew that this was the kind of information that Walker in Darkness would be interested in. But it was not a strong curiosity, and the whispers demanded her attention be focused elsewhere.

Soon she left the camp behind as she travelled deeper into the Mask of Winter's territory.

* * *

Though she would have far preferred to battle on the deck of a ship, Sparrow was quickly picking up the skills a rider needed. She led a charge across the blasted deadlands, behind her were nearly six hundred riders. From the flanks and rear of her unit flew arrows, propelled by re-curve horse bows of horn and resin, the broad-head arrows cutting apart the shambling zombies that covered the battlefield.

From her side she lifted a horn of ivory and blue jade. She put it to her lips and sounded it, the notes echoing out over the area, traveling far farther than they might from any normal horn. Around her the riders changed their formation, heavily armoured lancers moving up abreast with her, forming a line of destruction.

When that line hit the forces of the Mask of Winters, ghosts mostly, but some mortals, the forces of the Death Lord fell, their lines broken. They were crushed beneath hooves, or speared through with lances, or cut down by arrows, or smashed by hammers, and many met their end by Sparrow's sword. Her forces pushed through until Sparrow faced the commander.

She was, Sparrow had been told, a Ghost Blood by the name of Calli Shar.

Sparrow and Calli met with a clash of daiklaives, red jade and soulsteel ringing off each other like the peeling of bells, essence fuelled sparks flying amongst them like a swarm of fireflies.

As they were pressed close to each other by the mass of battle Calli demanded, "Tell me who you are!" There was the power of death behind her words, and a lesser opponent might have been forced to give answer, but Sparrow remained silent. Her horse, a big, mud brown gelding named Brownie – Sparrow had not named it – pushed back against the black stallion that Calli rode, and that horse stumbled.

Sparrow moved in time with the motion of her mount and lashed out with a series of blows that came close to unhorsing the ghost blood.

Calli finally managed to stop Sparrow's punishing onslaught, but there was a rent in the soul steel curais she wore and blood flowed from it. "Fine," Calli growled, "your ghost will provide the answers soon enough."

Sparrow reined Brownie back and raised her daiklaive, pointing towards something behind Calli. Calli frowned, confused, perhaps concerned, and then she lifted her sword and used it like a mirror, to look at what came from behind.

At first she smiled as she saw the forces moving up on her rear lines, but that smile faded as she recognized them for what they were.

"Your reinforcements are not coming," Sparrow said, for psychological warfare was as important as the physical.

A horn, twin to the one that Sparrow carried, sounded out from the approaching force, and around her the Marukan riders redoubled their efforts.

Sparrow laughed as she spurred Brownie forward, the heavy horse crashing into the stallion that Calli rode. Heron, she thought, would have handled this with far more grace, but she was not the rider that Heron was, nor was Brownie the horse Dragon was.

But as both horses went down heavily, the stallion screaming, Sparrow did not really care.

She let the force of the impact catapult her from her saddle, and rolled across the ground, coming up on her feet, her boot heels digging into the ground, dirt flying back as she charged back the way she had come.

Calli was trying to free herself from the tangle of tack and the weight of her mount and she was barely able to lift her sword to parry Sparrow's first attack, and even then Sparrow turned her sword to redirect the force of her blow, sending the tip of her blade slicing across Calli's face,cutting her from chin to temple.

Calli screamed in frustration, kicking viciously at her mount, trying to extricate herself.

Then her sword went spinning up into the air and Sparrow's daiklaive came down to rest between her eyes, cutting the skin.

"Surrender," Sparrow said.

"I'm not afraid of death," Calli spit.

Sparrow smiled. "You should be, considering the welcome your failure will likely earn you." She put her foot on the rent in Calli's curais and pushed down, causing the ghost blooded woman to grunt in pain. "The ghosts in your armour, how many of them died in failure."

Calli's blanched at that, and the fight seemed to leave her.

Sparrow nodded, smiling. "I thought you'd see it my way."

* * *

The rhythm of dripping water and the soft sounds of splashing filled the dark tunnels. The light of a small lantern caught the water ripples, casting the light about in odd ways. Lightning shifted to the side, trying to find higher ground. Before the coming of the Mask of Winters the tunnels had served as channels to carry away rain water and other refuse and wash it into the bay. Back then they would have been unwholesome, but since the area had become a shadowland the tunnels had taken on a much more disturbing aspect. Faint whispers in the air, and occasionally something seen out of the corner of the eye, gone when looked for.

Much more disturbing.

Soaked as she was to the top of her thighs in the stagnant waters of death, thinking about the darkness of those waters, and what might be within them, did not make her feel particularly comfortable.

Clarissa on the other hand splashed along, seemingly unconcerned, her attention on the clockwork device she held.

"Are we close?" Lightning asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Louder noises echoed in a odd way that only served to heighten the anxiety that she felt.

"If Ivory's compass can be trusted, we're almost there," Clarissa answered in a whisper. "The ghost of the city," she added. "I had wondered why she needed soul steel."

"She is a useful thing," Lightning said, looking around.

"I've meant to ask, is she yours Daddy?"

"What?" Lightning looked at her and then shook her head. "No, she's not my Solar mate. The Lady knows who gets that job. Hopefully someone who likes children."

"But does not like them too much," Clarissa said, and added, as she looked back towards the compass, "and is not bat shit insane like Rakshi."

Nodding, though Clarissa could not see it, Lightning followed, and considered the question of her Solar Mate. She wondered what that person would be like. And she wondered why she was suddenly thinking of the woman in frills and lace who had attacked Ivory and Heron in Lookshy.

"We're here," Calli said not long afterwards.

Lightning stopped and looked around, then up. Above them was a patch of shadow, hinting at an open space above them. "I'll go first," Lightning told Clarissa.

"Yes Daddy."

The walls were slick with a strange, slimy black moss, but Lightning went up them easily, fingernails grown to claws found easy purchase. Once she was in the shaft above, the stone work was much cleaner and her upwards progress was faster than some might run.

Before, when Thorns had lived, the shaft had been a garbage chute for the kitchens. The dead, having little need for food, had likely closed the kitchen and sealed up the chute. Ivory's clock work map, with its gears of soulsteel and white jade, had shown them the layout, and hinted at the chute.

Lightning was glad it was there or the entire trip through the sepulcherian tunnels would have been a waste of time.

At the top of the chute she felt along the wall, finding the seam of a small panel. She took a deep breath, held it, listened for several seconds, and then, hearing nothing, pressed at the wood, listening to the soft squeak of metal nails coming out of the frame. She worked the panel, mindful of the force she used so as not the crack the wood, until she finally freed it. The care was required for she would try to hide her forced entrance when it came time to leave.

The hatch opened and she peered out into a dusty, forgotten kitchen. She relaxed slightly, for she had feared the kitchen had been re-purposed to something of value to the dead. She shifted about, carefully, exiting the shaft, being heedful not to disturb the dust too much. She found a solid place and took a coil of rope from the small bag at her side. She sent the rope snaking back down into the shaft, to where Clarrisa waited.

A few seconds later she felt a gentle tug, and she replied with two tugs of her own before bracing herself. The rope creaked, as did the surface that Lightning had set herself against, as Clarissa began to climb.

The other woman came up the rope fast, pulling her body up, hand over hand. She levered herself from the shaft, slipping out so she and Lightning crouched on the counter, almost nose to nose. They remained like that, listening, waiting. Lightning counted out a hundred heartbeats before she slipped from the counter, placing her feet carefully, observant of the dust. Behind her Clarrisa came, stepping where Lightning had stepped, following closely.

They were silent as ghosts should have been.

It was not the door out to the dining room that they made their way, for it was certain that such a large space had been put to use, but instead the door that led to the old kitchen garden. They found it like they had hoped, abandoned and still surrounded by a high wall.

The once rich earth was a sickly grey, and all that remained of the vegetables that had once grown there was some desiccated, unhealthy looking plant matter.

Lightning climbed the wall and peered over. Beyond was an alley, a small space between the garden wall and a large store house. She signalled Clarissa to follow and then went over the wall.

Clarissa took the lead next, moving up the mouth of the alley, signalling Lightning forward when it was clear. And so they made their way deeper into the compound, hiding from the ghosts and other dead, never leaving cover except when they were certain it was safe. Or as safe as it could be.

A disturbance ahead of them sent both of the slipping into cover, Lightning shifted her form as she went, making herself even more difficult to spot.

Coming around the building, flanked and partially hidden by a number of armoured war ghosts, was a small woman, one of the diminutive Dajalans. She could not have been more than four feet tall, dressed in a suit of soul steel plate armour, a strange weapon, that looked like a pair of large shears, across her back; somehow she had a sense of gravity to her such that is seemed the war ghosts were being pulled along behind her rather than following.

Passing close by Lightning could hear the soft conversation that had only been a murmur before.

"...please Lady Blood, let us loose," one of the ghosts addressed the Dajalan woman.

"I'll cut you loose soon enough," she said, her voice a surprisingly deep rumble, "but only when the Mask of Winters looses my lead."

"But Lady Blood..." one said.

"Enough," she told him. "Your thirst for battle pleases me, but discipline will please..."

And then the voices became inaudible.

When it felt safe she slid from cover. Clarissa stood close by. She looked to Lightning, shook her head, and then looked back the way they had come. There was nothing more for them to find out, at least Clarissa thought as much. Lightning nodded.

They retraced their steps, moving with as much care as before.

Eventually they were back in the tunnels beneath the city, moving away from the military complex. Lightning stepped up onto a higher bit of ground and asked, "Why do you think there is nothing there?" Her voice was hushed.

"Flowers Soaked in Blood, Lady Blood. She's little better than a rabid dog. If she is in that military complex then the Mask of Winters has left nothing important there."

Lightning did not bother to ask Clarissa if she was certain of that, she had gotten the feeling that there was nothing important there herself. "His Citadel then," she said.

"I don't envy you going there Daddy."

"Shut up." After a moment Lightning asked, "What about this Lady Blood. She's new."

"Yes. Not subtle at all, barely controlled. Vicious. Some people call her Mini Maiden behind her back. They think she is trying to be like the Maiden of the Mirthless Smile."

"Is she?"

"No, maybe yes. I think she was a killer before she came to serve the mask. One who probably used poison, or arranged accidents."

"An assassin?"

"Maybe. More likely she just enjoyed it if you ask me. I think she wants to look her kills in the eye, get the blood on her. From what I have heard, the messier it is the better she likes it."

"A Dajalan with a thirst for blood shed. A disturbing image."

"One I think her master enjoys."

* * *

Since the confrontation with her cloak, well, her confronting it and it just lying there, Ivory had been looking for proof that her assumption had been right.

The cloak had not cooperated.

Oh, it was certainly a wonderful garment, with its perfect blackness, never fading nor getting dirty, nor snagging even as it dragged along behind her, always comfortable.

Perhaps, she thought, pulling it closer around her as the people and ghosts of Thorns passed her by, apparently not seeing her, it was only that. A garment.

She could picture it in her mind, the demonic tailors, their inhuman hands sewing the cloak, with black needles, and a thread drawn from the very essence of the demon realm. They were singing; in the images her mind conjured up, the demons always seemed to sing. Not that the song the Ivory imagined was a pleasant one.

Clever hands, slowly forming a cloak of darkness, each thread a work or art, a gift to be given to a princess of their realm. A gift she had then passed onto Ivory.

Maybe.

She shifted her position, looking up at the Palace of the Autocrat, the huge pyramid that dominated the centre of the city. It was busy, this place, and little changed since the fall of the city years before. She watched the people as she stood in the shadow of an outlying building, the place busy, mortals and the dead mixing, something of an uneasy balance reached.

She had come to watch the Palace before, when Lightning and Clarissa thought her safely in the house. Since first seeing it Ivory was certain that what they sought would not be found there, but she had come once again, just to be sure.

Noise nearby made her step back against the wall, deeper into the shadow.

A small group approached, at their head a beautiful man – though not in the feminine way that Heron was beautiful – with blonde hair and pale skin that stood out starkly against his black armour. Around him shuffled zombies, the stink rolling off them making Ivory's stomach roil.

The man and his zombies passed on without noticing her, but a large, black ration landed on the ground close to her, turning it head from side to side, as if it sensed her. It hopped across the ground, moving closer to where she stood.

"Baron," the man called from some way off.

The ration turned, spread its wings and then flew towards the man and landed on his armoured shoulder.

Ivory hugged her cloak tighter to her and decided it was time to return to the safe house.

* * *

The halls of the Palace of the Autocrat were rich with the treasure of centuries and the weight of history. There was a permanence to the structure that the dead could appreciate. That was likely why so many of them were there thought Cold Rain. As he marched through the corridors, at the head of his zombies, heels of his soul steel boots heavy on the floors, he was once more reminded that he found no comfort in the house of a puppet government, that he had no desire to play out the pantomime.

The dead and the living looked askance at him, for the zombies were not appreciated. They might happily see them working down at the docks, slaving away through the city, but most did not want to see them in polite society. Such as it was.

Cold Rain had found he preferred the company of the walking dead.

"Cold Rain, a pleasure to see you again," an ancient ghost lied through a faded smiled.

"Cold Rain, certainly we can expect great things to happen," a mortal desperate for alliances called to him.

"Charming to see you and your companions," the ghost blooded major-domo sniffed derisively.

How Cold Rain hated all of them.

Into the throne room Cold Rain swept, pushing the doors open and then dropping to his knee. "My Master," he said.

In a room full of scared beings the Mask of Winters was the only one who was not scared; he and the mindless zombies who knew no fear. Even Cold Rain was terrified of his master, but he masked it better than others.

Usually.

The Mask of Winters turned his attention on him; the side of his mask showing the joyful face. "Cold Rain, stand," he called in a voiced that resounded melodically within the mask.

Cold Rain did as she was told. "Thank you Master."

"I have something for you," the Mask of Winters said, and then stepped to the side, his cloak dropping. Cold Rain started ever so slightly as he saw the zombie that Mask of Winters had revealed. 'Mother,' he silently mouthed.

The Mask of Winters put a soul steel clad hand on the zombie's back and gave it a gentle push. It stumbled forward, towards Cold Rain.

The Death Knight stepped forward and took the zombie gently by its shoulders and pulled it close, looking into the ravaged flesh of the face. Carefully he brushed his thumb along a decaying cheek. "Thank you Master," he said.

"Surely you are pleased for my faithful Death Knight," the Mask of Winters said, but his words were not directed at Cold Rain.

Around him Cold Rain heard the sound of polite clapping from the dead court.

"Yes," the Mask of Winters said, "Very good. Now Cold Rain, I have a task for you, one that I hope you will perform better than the last I gave you."

Cold Rain was careful not to flinch at the barbed comment, for the punishment for his past failure was still fresh in his mind. "I will not fail you," he said.

"No, you won't," the Mask of Winters said pleasantly, and hidden in those words were the promise as to what might happen if he did.

"What would you have me do Master?"

The Mask of Winters crossed the room and put a hand across Cold Rain's shoulders, the soul steel of his armour rubbing against the soul steel of Cold Rain's armour, and both suits moaning piteously, the Mask of Winters cape draping around them.

When the Mask of Winters spoke Cold Rain knew that only he heard those words.

"Take your forces into the lands of Marukan and destroy their border patrols, prepare to push deep into their lands at my command. There is currently some force there that is foiling my other commanders. I trust you will succeeded where they did not."

Cold Rain nodded, wondering what sort of force the Marukan Alliance had been able to muster if they were opposing his Master's expeditionary army.

"You will also take Lady Blood with you. I will not tell you to keep her under control, but do try to make sure the atrocities she will commit are manageable. I don't want my new neighbours and subjects to feel that they have reason to fear me."

"No Master," he said.

"I expect great things from you," the Mask of Winters told him, before stepping back, drawing his cloak away.

"Go and do my bidding," he told Cold Rain.

Cold Rain bowed low and excused himself.


	11. Chapter 10: The Hunt and the Horselords

Chapter 10: The Hunt and the Horselords

* * *

Celeren was the only real city in Marukan, mostly made up of open market stalls that suited the people of the plains. It was walled, but the huge gates did not often close. Largest of the structures was city's manse, a vast building of stone, surrounded by paddocks full of horses.

The open nature of the city made it easy for Tolsay to find a place to land, but it certainly did not offer any place to hide his aircraft.

He put it some distance from any of the paddocks, not wanting to risk the spooking of the horses. It seemed a poor way to start off any relationship with the Marukan riders. He also came in slow, not wanting to alarm anyone. He dropped the ship neatly into a clear area, near the wall. "Should be seein' someone soon, ya."

Around them people were moving quickly, not panicking, but obviously getting ready for a potential threat. The non-combatants disappeared from the area, and there were soon a large number of soldiers and guards in their place, most of them mounted.

"We should get outside," Cloud Hands said.

While she was right, Tolsay would have preferred staying in the cockpit, ready to run. Just in case.

He did not voice his opinion, and exited with the others. He paused, letting the funerary priestess go in front of him. He watched the woman, wondering, not for the first time, why she was with them. Humouring Grace seemed a piss-poor reason.

The woman seemed to sense his gaze, for she looked up at him and nodded politely.

Tolsay shook his head. Why was he even giving the woman any thought at all? There were far more important things to consider.

One of those things was the rider approaching them. The jade armour he wore, and the grimcleaver across his back made it clear he was no mortal. He stopped some distance off, and called out, "Who comes to Celeren in such a manner?"

Cloud Hands stepped forward. "I am Abbess Cloud Hands of Greyfalls, and I am far from home, for I hunt Anathema."

"So, you are a Wyld Hunt, but so few in numbers?" The rider's horse shifted under him, but he maintained his balance with ease.

"We travel fast, with few numbers that is true. The Anathema we seek, one is a man as beautiful as a woman, and the other a red headed child."

"Are you sure you are not seeking party guests for the Cynis?"

Tolsay had to admit, given the history between the Realm and Lookshy and Marukan that it was a harmless enough verbal jab, and there was certain truth in it. He was concerned that Cloud Hands would not see the humour. She surprised him by not raising to the bait and simply saying, "The Anathema are dangerous, if you have seen them please tell me."

The rider was silent for several seconds, then he swung down from his mount, removing his helm as he approached them. He was neither tall, nor broad, but he moved easily. He was an older man, his brown hair greying at the temples. The green tinge to his skin made it clear enough he was a wood aspect.

"My apologies Abbess Cloud Hands. I am Kadra of the clan of Mayhiros, and I understand your concern over Anathema. Currently on our border with Thorns," he spat on the ground, "is an army led by Anathema which is always a threat. However, I have heard nothing of a beautiful man nor a child. I cannot help you."

Cloud Hands produced the seal that she had been given in Lookshy. "The leaders of Lookshy have offered us help."

Kadra approached and looked at the seal. "We are not Looshy, but we our allies with them. Still, what would you have us do?"

"Perhaps you might provide us with forces, and information."

He shook his head. "Forces, no. We cannot spare any. Information, perhaps."

"Any thing we might learn could be of use," she said. Tolsay thought she hid her desperation well.

"Very well," Kadra said. "I will make arrangements. Your companions may take their leisure as they will, Celeren welcomes you."

"Thank you," Cloud Hands.

He nodded, then walked back towards his horse. "Come to the manse, ask for Jerrefen, she will speak to you." He swung up on his horse and rode away.

Cloud Hands turned and walked back to them. Her lips were pressed flat and there was a twitch at the corner of her eye. "Do not cause problems, see what you can learn."

"Polite and observant ya," Tolsay told her.

The others expressed their agreement.

Cloud Hands left them and started towards the manse.

"This is insufferable," Grace seethed.

"We don't have much choice," Kihoshi said, looking around. "Marukan is huge. Even with the ship we could fly and search for months and never find them."

Grace frowned but said nothing more.

"Let's see what we can suss out, ya," Tolsay said. He was starting to wonder if Cloud Hands was really going to help him find the Peleps girl.

* * *

Once the Celeren Manse had belonged to the Realm, and while the people of Marukan had done their best to erase the signs of that, some remained. Cloud Hands relaxed slightly, in the somewhat familiar setting. It had been a while since she had been able to relax even a little, and it made her aware of how tried she was.

Jerrefen was was a professional looking woman, dressed well, blonde hair pulled up into a bun. Her smile did not touch her eyes as she indicated a chair in front of her desk. "Please sit Abbess," she said.

Cloud Hands took the offered seat, padded leather and wooden frame, very comfortable.

The office, she thought, as Jerrefen took a seat, had a sterilized look, a place to meet people and give away nothing.

"How can we be of assistance to you?" Jerrefen asked, putting her hands, fingers interlaced, on the desk top.

"I am looking for information about a woman called Lightning. She was a horse trader who worked for the Legion."

Jerrefen seemed to be thinking about it and then said, "Lightning worked for the Legion in the lands of the Marukan Alliance for three years, maybe four. She is mentioned a few times in reports. Most people thought well of her, said that she recognized a good horse."

Cloud Hands waited for the woman to say more, when several seconds passed in silence she asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Apparently she did not make a larger impression, at least not enough to end up in the various reports we received."

"Was there any place she spent a lot of time at?"

"She went where the Legion was purchasing horses."

Cloud Hands nodded. "Thank you. I've come seeking a pair of Anathema. A beautiful man and a red headed child."

"Two like that would certainly stand out," Jerrefen told her.

Cloud Hands fists clenched tightly, and her jaw tightened, but she forced herself to relax, unclenching her hands and jaw. She took a deep breath from her nose, and let it out of her mouth, asking, "So there has been no reports speaking of them?"

Jerrefen nodded. "It is possible the ones you seek are in the lands of the Alliance, but this is a difficult time and I am afraid we can offer you little help."

"Thorns is threatening," Cloud Hands said, thinking perhaps if she had the woman talk of something else she might learn something.

Jerrefen nodded, "Not that this is new. Thorns has always been a threat, not matter who ruled there."

Cloud Hands nodded, ignoring the not so subtle dig. "The ones I seek have opposed the dead in the past," she said.

"Successfully?"

Cloud Hands felt her jaw tighten again and nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

"I can only hope they are here."

"Do you know how much danger your soul is in?" Cloud Hands demanded, leaning forward in her chair, unable to keep silent.

Jerrefen shifted back slightly and said, "At the moment I am more concerned about my body."

Cloud Hands settled back into her chair. "Yes, I am sorry. Might I offer help?"

Jerrefen remained slightly on edge as she said, "If you wish to take your Wyld Hunt in search of Anathema, you may. We will honour Lookshy's request. If you wish to offer aid to any of our forces in the field, I am sure the individual commanders will be pleased." She paused, and then added, "Please do not interfere with any military operations even if you do find your quarry."

"There is nothing more you can tell me?"

"That is all that I have," she said.

Cloud Hands could not be certain if Jerrefen was being completely truthful, but supposed, unless she forced the issue, that was all she was going to learn.

Cloud Hands stood. "Thank you."

* * *

Faded Maiden considered leaving the Dragon-Bloods behind. They were not being near as useful as she had hoped, not since they had quickly gotten her to Lookshy. She had considered simply killing them all and stealing the flying machine. However there was security on it she knew she would not be able to compromise.

Truth would be able to deal with such measures in a moment, that she was certain of that, but were Truth with her she would not be in the situation of needing to depend on the Dragon-Bloods.

Maddening.

"Iris," she heard Grace call, and the sound of her running up behind her.

And the idiot Mnemon made things that much more annoying, however when she turned to face her none of that showed.

"What is is Madame Mnemon?" she asked, bowing.

"Will you be continuing to travel with us? We may be going into battle, or at least close to it, and it will be dangerous."

Iris nodded. "I am aware, but there will be dead who will need proper tending to ensure that their souls go to the rightful place. I will continue to travel with you, if you will allow me."

"Yes, I would like if you would travel with us." She paused for a moment, and then said, "I want to see the man who killed Rajan Soo dead."

Faded Maiden, who knew who that man was, agreed, and she nodded. "Vengeance is understandable, and sometimes a soul cannot rest if the one who killed them still lives." What did she care if the Terrestrial tried to kill the Solar. She would be pleased enough with either of the their deaths.

Grace nodded. "When we find him, he dies."

* * *

Tolsay was with Kiyoshi when they met with Cloud Hands as she came from the manse. "We got to talk, ya," Tolsay said, falling in beside her.

"What is it?" Cloud Hands asked.

"These people are preparing for war," Kiyoshi told her. "And not just in general, they think the enemy is coming here."

Cloud Hands looked about as she walked, looking for signs of what Kiyoshi said.

"Subtle ya."

"I suppose I am not surprised. Taking this city would be a sensible course for any enemy."

"That's the thing, ya, got a force that's look'n like it is plannin' on heading out."

"There are about two hundred riders, gathering near the south gate. They have a look to them, as if they are trying to maintain a low profile," Kiyoshi told her.

She looked between the two men. "You think they plan betrayal?"

"Nah, not likely," Tolsay replied.

"But they are planning something that is not quite in line with the current operations."

"Figure you want to talk to them, ya?"

"You might be able to get something useful from them."

Cloud Hands nodded. "Let's go then."

Tolsay led the way, across the city at a fast pace, to where he and Kiyoshi had spotted the riders. It did indeed look as if they planned to leave soon.

Cloud Hands took the lead, moving towards the man who looked like he was in command. She presented the seal she had been given and said, "We are seeking Anathema."

She was being right out there, Tolsay thought, taking a few steps away so he could watch.

"I am aware of what you are here for," the man said. There was nothing notable about him, an older man with black hair and dark eyes. He looked Cloud Hands up and down and then said, "I am Commander Lann, how can I help you Abbess?"

Cloud Hands looked about at the riders, then back to Lann. "We wish to travel with you."

The commander kept his cool, Tolsay noted, but some of his men looked a little nervous.

"We are going into a battle. Will you lend your might to us when we meet the enemy?"

Cloud Hands nodded. "We will. If you strike against the dead, the power of the Dragons will aid you."

"Can you ride? We do not have quick access to any chariots."

"Got my Heart Spear," Tolsay said, "keep up real easy ya."

"It also might be a large target," Lann said.

"Got stealth on it, hard to see. Keep an eye for trouble, drop some flares if I see trouble ya."

It was a good deal, Tolsay thought, but worth a bit of thought. Lann was quiet longer in his consideration than Tolsay would credit.

"Very well," he finally said. "I don' want you directly over us, if the enemy does spot you I don't want you giving us away. I'll show you where we are going. Meet us there when the sun sets, otherwise just fly the area."

It was the sort of boring flying that Tolsay went out of his way to avoid, but he only nodded. "Goy ya."

Lann called for maps as the people continued at their tasks, loading up equipment on the backs of pack horses, checking gear and the hundreds of other things that had to be done.

A camp table was placed down and a map spread out on it.

"If you lose us, go to the Spire," Lann said, placing a finger on the map. "You can ask for me, someone will be able to find my location. Or you can just remain there and wait."

Tolsay nodded.

"What is the Spire?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Fortress." He did not expand on that, instead placing his finger on the map. "This is the area we will be making for tonight, hill top, good lines of sight, several exits. You put that ship down on on the edge of the main clearing if you want. but there are other open spaces you could land in and then make your way to the camp. I'll leave it up to you."

Tolsay looked at the map, committing it to memory, and looked for the trap. Seemed they were giving him lots of options, lots of ways out. "Understood, ya."

There was some more to the briefing, Tolsay nodded, asked a few questions, as did Cloud Hands. Kiyoshi kept quiet and watched, which was smart of him Tolsay thought.

By that time the riders were ready to go.

"I will see you this evening," Lann said as the maps and the camp table were packed away. "Safe travels."

"May the Dragons Bless you," Cloud Hands offered.

Tolsay only nodded, and then watched as Lann mounted up and ordered his force to move out.

Once they were gone Cloud Hands, Tolsay and Kiyoshi turned and started back towards the Heart Spear.

"I don't completely trust that man," Cloud Hands said.

"His soldiers were nervous, on the edge," Kiyoshi told her. "You being there bothered them for some reason. Not all of them, just a few."

"Maybe the ones in the know," Tolsay said.

"The know of what?" Cloud Hands asked.

"If it's a trap, ya, we have to stick our heads in."

She nodded. "I can't ask you to come with me,"

"Ya, but I'll come. Got business."

"I'll stick with you," Kiyoshi said, "and Grace and Anzar are pretty driven."

"Yes, I suppose they are."

And you are starting to get worried about that, Tolsay thought. The Abbess might finally be smartening up.


	12. Chapter 11: Pieces on the Board

Chapter 11 - Pieces on the Board

* * *

Stinking of decay, taller than even a man on horseback, the monstrosity of dead flesh and soul steel bore down on Bergen, its metal studded fists rocketing towards the god blooded commander. So far he had managed to turn the killing blows, but he was slowing, below him River was slowing. There was a terrible certainty to the blow that finally broke through his guard and sent him flying from his saddle.

River reared up, putting himself between his fallen rider and the dead monster, but the monstrosity knocked the horse aside and closed on Bergen.

As it lifted its hand there was a flash of white, and suddenly Sparrow, astride a tall mare, was between him and the dead thing.

Bergen watched as that huge hand slammed down into Sparrow's face, knew with certainty that it hit. He also knew that he saw golden light dance about her for a moment. Unmoved by the blow which would have smashed a fortress door, she countered, her red jade daiklaive lashing out in a precise arc that took the monster's head from its shoulders.

She continued the attack, several more cuts, one taking its arm off, another biting deep into its hip, slicing away tendon.

The dead thing fell over, unmoving.

Sparrow brought her mare around, obviously still not completely at ease upon horseback. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Bergen nodded.

Sparrow leaned over far, gripping the saddlehorn tightly with one hand, offering him her other hand.

Bergen took it. He noticed how Sparrow tensed, as if frightened, and as soon as he was on his feet she released the hold quickly.

He also saw she was breathing heavily, and there was sweat on her forehead.

"You're holding back, working harder because of it," he said, and then walked to where River stood, looking his mount over, making sure he was not hurt.

"They're not ready to see that," Sparrow told him.

"If you're dead before that time comes it will not be of much help to them."

"That might be true. Are you and River ready to fight?"

Bergen nodded as he mounted up. "I'm ready." He looked about, seeing that the dead were falling back. "We're going to destroy them?"

Sparrow nodded and brought her horn to her lips, playing the signal for regroup and attack.

Bergen looked at her for a long moment, then set River forward at a gallop.

He would follow Sparrow, not matter what various religious doctrine might say about her.

* * *

Heat from the flames made Chala draw back, but she remained as close as she could, watching as the dead burnt. Not far off Heron stood beside Dragon, smoke still raising from his flame weapons. She might not have believed before how fast the dead might fall, but Heron was like a flaming scythe. She crossed the charred ground to stand at his side. "Thank you," she said.

He looked at her, smiled.

Chala felt her heart speed up and chided herself for acting like a love besotted school girl.

"We're driving them back," she said.

"It will get harder," Heron told her.

And it was not hard already, she wondered, but only nodded, because she was certain of the truth of his words. There had been, as far as she could tell, no Death Knights in many of the battles they had fought. When they came, could they continue to win?

Bergen seemed certain that they could, seeming to have no doubt in Sparrow and Heron. Chala thought that he knew something that he was not saying.

"More riders come every day," she said, it made her feel better to say it. "The Mayhiros and Lookshy still think the real attack will come up the coast and hit Celeren, but not everyone is willing to accept that."

Heron nodded, and then began to pack his flame weapons away into sheaths on Dragon's saddle. "We'll need them. We'll need all the help we can get." He looked up at the setting sun. "New moon tonight," he said thoughtfully.

"Are you worried that the dead will make an attack under darkness?" Chala asked.

He looked at her, appearing momentarily confused, but then he smiled. "Perhaps. Still, even we can benefit from the darkness."

Chala wondered what he meant.

* * *

"We've found nothing," Lightning said.

She sat in a small, forgotten hollow in thick woods, some days ride from both the Marukan Alliance and Thorns.

The Blade was not far off, the rays of the setting sun gleaming off its hull.

"We've covered Thorns about as well as we can," Lightning continued.

"So what now?" Heron asked.

"We're going to the Mask of Winter's citadel," she told him.

Heron nodded. "I suppose it was bound to come down to that."

"We'll be okay," Ivory said from where she and Hu sat.

"Doesn't seem likely," he told her.

"Actually, its probably going to be easy to get in there," Lightning told him.

"And getting out?" Heron asked.

"No plan is perfect. How is Sparrow doing?"

"Stretched tight, but, I think she'll be okay."

"And the Marukan?"

"Some of them know the truth, or suspect. Some are desperate."

Lightning nodded. "But hopeful I suppose. Allies?"

"When this is all over, assuming we are still standing? That's going to be the question isn't it?"

"They'll like us," Ivory said as she stood up, letting her cloak slip from her shoulders.

She walked away from them, to a patch of bare ground, and then with the heel of her shoe, began gouging the soft dirt.

"She's hopeful," Lightning said.

Heron nodded. "When will the Mask of Winters send real threats against us?"

"Soon. They are probably already on their way. Not as many as there should be."

"He's split his forces."

Lightning nodded. "His reach might exceed his grasp."

"We can hope."

"We can make it so."

"We'll certainly try." He looked towards where Ivory worked and then back to Lightning. "Sparrow wants to know more about the Spire."

"I don't think I can tell her more than she already knows. First age fortress, high walls. The Marukan fighting style does not work well with sitting behind walls and trying to out wait an enemy. Lookshy and the Marukan have put a small force in it, enough to keep it locked up against an enemy that might want to take it."

"Anything else?"

Lightning shook her head. "Never really gave it much thought. You think that Sparrow can make use of it?"

"She's good. Getting better. If there is a way to make use of a fortress and cavalry, she'll find it."

Lightning looked towards where Ivory worked. "Have you ever seen her do this before?"

"No, but I trust her. Sorcery is her area."

* * *

In Thorns, on the edge of the city, Courtesan stalked, unseen, unheard. She was in the camp of the enemy. But then again so was the girl she hunted, though at the moment that strong sense had faded.

That meant the girl was not here, but the Whispers were quiet, so she had to be coming back.

Courtesan hoped.

An old house still stood in a ruined neighbourhood. She entered through an unbarred window just below the roof. Once it had been a grand house, she supposed, and even empty, with dust coating everything, it sill spoke of that grandeur.

She wandered through it, bow held ready, until she found the current resident. A house like that did not remain abandoned without reason.

The ghost was old, and almost certainly mad, but no less powerful for that.

It looked up with Courtesan entered. "I know you," it said, raising a black, skeletal arm to point at her.

She drew back and arrow and sent it flying into the ghost's chest. On her brow the skin darkened with a faint bruise.

The Nephwrak stumbled back, the arrow deep in its chest, twisting like a spiteful thing.

"But our masters..." the ghost said.

He was silenced by Courtesan's next arrow which took him through the throat, and went still as the third arrow took him through the head.

"Perhaps they think you are too mad to be of use," Courtesan said, lowering her bow, blinking the blood from her eyes.

She wiped her hand across her forehead, leaving a smear of blood on the stained and tattered sleeve of her blouse and the back of her hand.. The house, for a time, wound serve as a place of rest.

* * *

Dreaming Blue sat near the border of the of the lands that Thorns claimed, though she suspected that that border had expanded out in the last few days.

She had her daiklaive laid across her knees; spread out before her was starchart, an ancient one, etched on a flexible crystal sheet, a relic from the fallen City of Rathess. Tracing her finger across the surface she watched as certain points of the represented sky lit up.

"Curious," she said.

She turned the crystal sheet and moved her finger across it again. "The Mask is still broken, but the Soldier stands in the house of the Sun," she said softly.

A sound made her look up. Some distance off she saw a horde of dead shuffling towards her, led by a small, mounted contingent.

Carefully she rolled the crystal up. She had a new destination, but first, she tucked the star chart away and stood, her daiklaive ready. She was going to put down some dead.

* * *

Many people were crowded into the tent, around the terrain table. The table was quite large, a square the size of a tall man on each side. It was a shallow box, its top a sheet of adamant. Within was a fine mixture of sand and powdered jade, mostly white. The mixture flowed and changed, creating a scale map of the area around it for almost three hundred miles in each direction.

Denva Jaabra-an older man, the leader of the Storming Ninety, a group of 5 hammer scales, heavily armed cavalry that favoured maces and lances-reached forward and tapped the adamant. The surface below rippled and shifted slightly, like water. "I believe that this is our enemy, on the march for, real."

The map showed an area of instability, as if the map was not certain what was there. Denva obviously thought it was the marching of a large number of troops. "Coming at us from Thorns, almost straight South to North."

The others in the room nodded or otherwise indicated agreement.

Chala led with a twist of her hip, forcing in close to the table. She had been in the fight the longest, and as a result the others deferred to her, to a point. She wiped her hand across the surface of the adamant, causing the powder below to go perfectly flat a moment before it reformed as a very detailed topographic map of the area within ten miles of where they stood.

"I believe that they are bringing an advanced force up the river here," she said, indicating the scale representation with her finger. "The river has cut deep, not an easy place to get horses, and the dead can walk along the river bed, so there would be no rafts or boats to see."

"It would be a dramatic and bold move," Renge Nine-Fingers said, "but that does not make it true."

Chala nodded. "It does not make it true."

Everyone in the room who could looked at the map, where Chala had indicated. All of them seemed to be considering what would happen to their lines were it true.

"We will assume that the dead march up the river and that they will make their first attack within the day. A bold move that if true will put their forces in position too advantageous to them for us to ignore."

The all looked towards Sparrow, who stood at the head of the map table, looking down at the map.

She wiped her hand across the adamant, the powder below seeming to leap to do her bidding, taking on detail that it had only hinted at before. None of the people in the room were particularly surprised, for Sparrow had shown herself greatly skilled in warfare.

"They will come out of the river here," she said, indicating a place where the river widened out, the sharp walls that had bracketed the river falling away, forming a large, shallow bowl. "It's a plain of mud, not at all good for the horses."

"We can hit them when they move onto firmer ground," a young commander suggested from near the front of the tent.

Sparrow said nothing, tapping the adamant. All around the bowl what looked like fortifications came up. "The could easily put up defences while we wait, and we would have to split to both sides of the river. Also they would have spread out by the time we could hit them, requiring the necessary force to be larger still. Waiting for them plays into the their hands."

"What is your plan?" Nine-Fingers asked.

Sparrow tapped the adamant agai, the surface below shifting and reforming.

"The Spire," Nine-Fingers said.

"They could just march around it," Denva said, but his tone suggested he did not think it would happen.

"They could," Sparrow nodded, "but they can't afford to. The dead may not need the same supply lines as the living, but they need supply lines none the less. A force left behind their advance is a threat. Lookshy could also bring in reinforcements by air. They won't pass us by."

"We lose the advantage of the horses," Nim Preece told her. He was young, but commanded almost sixty fast skirmishers, armed with firewands and long bows; his words carried weight.

"I have no plan to have the riders of Marukan hide behind the Spire's walls. The Spire is too large to easily surround, and there are many gates. We will hit the enemy hard, constant attacks spearing out from the safety of the Spire," she placed her hand on the adamant above the representation, "and then falling back, drawing them in so the weapons on the wall can be brought into play."

Nim nodded after a second. "I see. Yes."

"The enemy will suspect that we will move towards the Spire, but the longer we can keep them guessing, the more time we will have. We can keep them uncertain, their forces unconsolidated, until we are ready for them. I hope."

Again nods from those around the table.

"We'll be making battle field feints, I'll want our forces to ride out in the next few hours," Sparrow said. She looked towards Chala and to Bergen who stood at her side. "We will take the largest force towards the enemy. Nine-Fingers, I want you to head to the bowl. Take Nin with you, make them believe you want to stop them from taking the shore."

"Understood," Nine-Fingers said. "I'll make them hurt. And if we can in fact stop them, all the better."

"Good," Sparrow said, and smiled. "We'll break their advance, hold them and then crush them. They don't think we can. They are wrong."

Sparrow let no doubt enter her voice. She had used the same tone when ordering her ship into a gale, not letting her crew ever doubt her for even a moment. This was the same. She did not want them to think it would be easy, but she needed them to think they could win.

"Denva. Take your men to the Spire, make sure it is secure. I fear treachery more than zombies at this moment."

"Yes General," he said.

"Let's get to work," Sparrow told them.

* * *

Near the edge of the tent a mouse went unnoticed as it squeezed out from under the fabric into the night. Mouse dashed through the camp, then scurried up a tent rope. The mouse's form flowed like water, and suddenly a bat spread its wings and took flight, silently climbing into the night sky.

After darting away from the camp the bat gained altitude, and then its form shifted again, and where the bat had flown now flew a large owl, silent and fast, faster than any owl should be.

It crossed the night sky, silent and unremarked, and not long afterwards was spiralling down towards the vast structure of the Spire; a fortress of high walls, and weapon emplacements.

Owl landed upon the highest tower, shifted and grew until Redigost stood there, in his moonsilver plate. He looked down from the tower, his upper lip pulled into a sneer.

* * *

It was still a few hours before dawn when Heron rode into the camp. All around him riders were preparing to move out, most of the camp had been taken down, light weight tents and packs tied to the backs of horses. For those things that were too large to be taken on horse back, there were sturdy wagons, pulled by high spirited drays that were one of the most under-appreciated military strengths that the Marukan possessed.

He spotted Sparrow, speaking to a group of high ranking riders. He was about to ride over to them when a young rider, a lean limbed wood aspect named Razor-Willow, rode up to him, cutting him off. "Heron," he said, "there is an issue, visitors."

Heron nodded after a moment. "Who is bringing them in?"

"Lann."

"Good man?"

"He respects your horse."

Heron smiled and laughed softly.

"They've got an airship, following Lann's forces."

Heron looked towards Sparrow. "I think we could use an airship. How does he plan to ground them?"

"He's bouncing them, thinks he can set them up in Black Stone."

"Is he ready for us?"

"He knows what to expect."

Heron nodded and looked back towards where Sparrow worked. "How long to get there?"

"Two hours."

"Alright, let's go." He flicked the reins to set Dragon into a walk.

"Not going to tell the General?" Razor-Willow asked.

"Not her worry."

Razor-Willow nodded.

* * *

Earlier that evening, as the sun had been going down, the Heart Spear had put down in the clearing that Lann had told them they would making the first camp at. Instead they had only found two riders, working a small camp forge, working on shoeing a small group of horses. 'Always have some farrier work to do,' one had explained.

Apparently things had changed and Lann had gone on, riding in the dark. 'Look for a tall hill, south of here, maybe ten miles. Look for a green flare,' they had been told.

They had flown in the dark, to the complaints of Tolsay. Cloud Hands had supposed he was just complaining for the sake of complaining, for the darkness did not seem to have a negative impact on his flying.

No sign of the green flare, Tolsay had had to fly in large circles, crossing back and forth, until finally he had caught site of the small, green glow. 'Piss poor light,' he had sworn.

Landing, they had found that once more Lann had gone forward, moving quickly. 'Look for a shallow valley,' they had been told, 'that's where he will be.'

It was dark, there was no moon that night, so all they had was the light of the stars, and trust in Tolsay's flying.

"This has got to be a trap, ya."

Cloud hands looked up and out the cabin windows. Below she could see the flickering lights of fires, a dark slash across the landscape suggesting the shallow valley.

"Settin' up in a valley, 'nless you control the ridge, bad call, ya."

"We knew that we might be going into a trap," she said, wishing she did not feel so tired. "What other options do we have?" She wished she did not have to ask that question. She wished she could just tell Tolsay to fly them back to Greyfalls, or better yet the short journey across the sea to the Realm where she might gather an impressive Wyld Hunt. She could not face the thought of delay, she had to go forward.

Tolsay must have sensed that desperation for all he said was, "Put down and dust off, ya? Keep the Spear in the sky, keep the high ground."

"A good plan. Grace, Anzar, your with me. Tolsay, Kiyoshi, stay in the ship."

"Three of you enough?"

"With you overhead, I can make it work," Cloud Hands said.

"Your game," the pilot answered as he took the Heart Spear down.

They gathered their arms and when Tolsay brought them to a halt, the Heart Spear hovering a few feet off the ground, they disembarked, leaping from the ship. She noticed that the old Sijanese priestess had come with them, but she put it from her mind as unimportant.

"Signal me if you want me to land," Tolsay called from the cabin, and then Heart Spear climbed rapidly, returning to the sky.

"Let's go, and keep your heads about you," Cloud Hands told Anzar and Grace. "We don't know what to expect."

They walked along the valley floor, passing small fires at which a few riders rested. Close by their was a picket line with the horses tied to it.

"Not enough men or horses," Anzar said.

Cloud Hands nodded.

They were about halfway along the valley's length when Lann appeared from the darkness. "Abbess Cloud Hands, I am glad you made it. I apologize for making you come farther than expected."

"Such uncertainties are to be expected in times of war," she answered. He did not ask about the Heart Spear, and she wondered about that.

"There is someone who wishes to speak with you. He has news that might be of use."

"About the Anathema?" she asked, feeling her heart speed up in her chest. Could this person have the information that she sought?

"I'll let him tell you," he said, turning and walking away.

Cloud Hands followed, moving quickly to catch up.

Ahead of them was a larger fire, at which sat a single person, wearing a cloak. Behind him stood a large, dark grey horse. Her step faltered, for she recognized the animal.

"I am not surprised by this meeting," Heron Jade eyes said as he pushed the hood of the cloak back from his head.

"You!" Grace snarled as she lifted her hammer and charged.

Before Cloud Hands could warn her to stop Lann kicked Grace's legs out from under her, dropping the woman hard to the ground.

"Please don't move," Lann said. "I would hate to have to kill you."

There was noises from around them, and Cloud Hands looked around, guessing that archers stood in the darkness, on the rim of the valley.

"I'll kill you all," Grace said, trying to get to her feet. Lann drove a foot down on the back of her neck, forcing her back to the ground.

"Be calm, both of you," Cloud Hands ordered, seeing Anzar was close to panicking. "This is not the time to throw your lives away." She had brought them here, she had to do what she could to keep them alive.

Heron stood, letting the cloak fall from his shoulders. He wore a chain shirt of orichalcium, a buff jacket over that. There was a subtle glow about him that made him stand out in the gray of the predawn. Those riders around them showed respect and deference to the beautiful man.

"What is it you want?" Cloud Hands demanded, keeping all uncertainty from her voice.

"Marukan is under threat from the dead," Heron told her, his voice, that she had last heard directed at her in anger, still held that powerful quality to it.

"He is Anathema," Cloud Hands said to the riders around her. "To even listen to his words puts your souls in danger you cannot imagine."

She had hoped for shock, at the very least, but all she saw was some minor discomfort among a few of the riders. Far too few.

"The Mask of Winters had pushed into Marukan territories," Heron continued, as if she had said nothing. "We need allies. I ask that you signal your companions in the aircraft above to land, before you force me to shoot them down."

Not sure if he was bluffing or not, she asked, "Do you have any of those green flares."

"Here," Lann said, tossing her a small cylinder. He stepped back from Grace.

Cloud Hands looked at the flare, then took a few steps away and lit it. She waved the flare back and forth, wondering if Tolsay would take the light as a signal for attack or landing?

The Heart Spear put down some distance away from them. From the ship Tolsay and Kiyoshi came out.

Cloud Hands tossed the flare to the ground and wondered if the riders and the anathema might attack. She watched as his horse came closer to Heron, as Heron put his hand on the beasts neck. The horse, she thought, would be a powerful benefit in the lands of the Alliance. The Marukan worshipped a horse god. It was why the Immaculate Doctrine spoke out against such worship. Give an Anathema a fine horse and he could command the respect of such people.

"I take it this ain't good, ya?" Tolsay asked, coming to stand close to her.

"No, not really," she said.

"You come at a useful time, for your strength of arms will be of benefit to us," Heron told them.

"We would die before we wold help you, murderer!" Grace yelled, and she made to start forward, but Kihoshi took her shoulder in his artificial hand, the metal fingers clamping down to hold her.

"And you would give the entire River Province to the dead?" Heron asked, his tone containing a subtle bite.

We are not at our best, Cloud Hands thought, and she knew she should shut Grace up, but she was starting at Heron, thinking about her pursuit of him.

"You're a monster!" Grace nearly screamed, and there was a catch in her voice which made it obvious that she was close to tears. "You killed Rajan Soo!" She pulled at the grip on her shoulder.

"It was a battle," Heron said calmly. "You were the one who put her in danger."

No one, Cloud Hands thought, surprisingly calm, could say such a thing without expecting a reaction. Grace screamed, broke free of Kiyoshi, raised her hammer, and managed two steps towards Heron before, surprisingly, Tolsay brought her down with a hard kick to her stomach.

He grabbed her, bent her wrist back until the hammer fell from it, and then dropped her onto the ground, his knee slamming into the small of her back. "You will stop acting like a fool," he told her, the accent gone from his voice. "If you wish to die do it elsewhere." He cuffed her hard behind the ear to make his point, then stood, taking the moment to kick her in the ribs.

Kiyoshi took a step forward, putting his foot on the shaft of Grace's hammer.

Cloud Hands felt terrible for the way Grace was being treated, for she wished she could be as angry as Grace, could attack with that mindless rage. It was bottled up in her for the moment, contained by exhaustion and confusion.

Tolsay looked at Cloud Hands, smiled. "Gonna play my own hand now, ya," he said, then turned and walked towards Heron.

"You ask for my aid," Tolsay said, stopping some distance from where Heron stood. "I'll give it, all I ask is one thing."

Heron said nothing for a moment, Cloud Hands wondered if he was a curious as she. "That that would be?" he asked.

"The girl, Ivory Peleps. I mean her no harm," he added quickly. "I just want her to speak with my superior. A place of your choosing."

"And who is your superior?" Heron asked.

"Mnemon Gazan."

"I know that name," Heron said.

Cloud Hands did as well. The leader of the Left, part of the Empress' personal guard. Tolsay had played her, all to get at this girl, she thought.

"I'm sure you do. But things have changed. Well, I'll make sure they change. Mnemon Gazen needs to speak with the girl, that is all. Once he's spoken with her, he won't need her dead. They just need to come to an agreement."

"So, you help, and I ask Ivory to meet with Gazan."

Tolsay nodded.

Heron looked towards Lann. "Opinions?"

"He's the smartest of them, if you ask me. I'd make the deal sir."

Heron nodded and looked back to Tolsay. "Very well, we have an agreement."

Apparently satisfied with Tolsay, Heron shifted his attention onto her instead. Cloud Hands suddenly felt uncomfortable, vulnerable.

She did not like it.

He walked towards her, apparently unconcerned with the danger she, Grace (who had returned to her feet), Anzar and Kiyoshi represented. Or maybe they really were not a threat. She noted his smooth gait, felt a stab of jealousy and anger. Her knee, the one he had shattered, still pained her.

She did not like that thought either.

"You've been chasing me," he said to her.

Between clenched teeth she said, "That's your fault."

"But I thought chasing Solars was what you lived for? You should be happy. Should I kill your companions, send you far away, let you start your chase again? Will that please you?"

His tone was so calm, as if he really cared, as if he were not mocking her.

"Monster," Grace said, and shifted towards him only to stop when the barrel of one of his pistols came to press against her forehead. Cloud Hands had not seen him draw the weapon, and she suspected neither had Grace.

"Back away," he told her, something in his voice, like the blade of a knife laid against a throat.

She did as he said.

Cloud Hands marvelled at that, in spite of herself.

He looked back at Cloud Hands. "I'll give you a choice," he told her. "You can continue to chase me, or I will allow you an option that will let you to cease your pursuit."

"And what do I have to do in order to get this boon?" She managed to not clench her teeth.

"You will vow to serve me, faithfully, until the Mask of Winters is put down."

It was as if bile had risen in her throat, though there was nothing sour in her mouth. "You ask too much."

Heron stared at her. "You deserve no sympathy from me, but I offer you it. You have caught up to me, and in this coming battle you might see me die, so your oath is not forsaken. Swear what I ask, and if you survive this coming battle, and I will allow your first oath to be discharged and you will know peace; do not survive it, then you will also find a peace of sorts."

"Only," she said, and she was proud of the sarcasm in her voice, "if you put down the Mask of Winters."

Heron smiled. "Do you doubt that it will happen?"

Cloud Hands was about to open her mouth but found she did not have the words to refute him. Did she doubt it? She so wanted to.

There was power in this man's words, power in his very presence. She had let the Anathema speak, she had listened to its words. I should have known better, Cloud Hands thought.

"I swear to serve you faithfully, until the Mask of Winters is put down," she said, surprised how calm her tone sounded.

He put a free hand on her, the one that did not hold a pistol. "Let Heaven Sanctify this vow."

Sunlight exploded around him, lighting the area around them, chasing away the uncertain greys and leaving the distinct colours of the natural world about them.

Perhaps, Cloud Hands thought, she had hoped this display of the Anathema's power might free the riders from his influence, let them know what he really was. However not one of them spoke against him.

We were fools to ignore the Mask of Winters, she thought. He created the situation that allowed this.

Heron looked at her for a moment, then took his hand from her, the sunlight still spilled from him. "Your remaining companions," he said, turning to look at them.

Cloud Hands looked towards them.

"The name of the angry one?" he asked lightly.

"Grace Mnemon," Cloud Hands said, furious that he made jest of Grace's justified rage.

He looked at Grace. "I killed your companion Mnemon, but it was you brought her into danger. Survive this battle and I will give you a chance to claim justice. The Sun and the Dragons will stand in judgement and the one most deserving of their aid will live. Will you accept that."

Grace stared at him, teeth clenched, but after a moment she nodded. "I will kill you when that time comes."

"And if you do, that will be justice, but if you make a move while the threat of the Mask of Winter remains, I will execute you."

He turned his attention away from Grace and looked at Anzar. "Your punishment for the Death of Maddie Briar and what you did in Vinleau still remains. I would kill you now," he said, and took a step towards Anzar, and Anzar took a step back, "but I still will give Ivory her chance to impose Justice. When this battle ends, run, run as fast as you can, because if I see you I will kill you."

How frightened Anzar looked, Cloud Hands thought. How powerful Heron's words. What had Anzar done in Vinleau, who was this Maddie Briar to demand such anger?

Heron turned away from Anzar, as if he was nothing, and looked to Kiyoshi. "For the moment, I know nothing of you, but you follow this woman."

Cloud Hands had to force herself not to shrink back as his gaze fell on her for a moment.

"Keep it that way," Heron told Kiyoshi, then turned towards Lann. "Get this force to the Spire. That is where Sparrow wants you."

"Yes sir," Lann said, saluting.

Heron walked to his horse, swung up onto the saddle. He looked at Cloud Hands. "Don't fail," was all he said, then turned the horse and rode off.

Cloud Hands looked at the terrestrials about her, not longer able to think of them as her Wyld Hunt.

"You can fly to the Spire. Show your seal to the forces there," Lann told her, then turned and started calling out commands to his men.

"Where's Iris?" Grace suddenly asked.

Cloud Hands looked towards her, and then around, noting that the priestess had disappeared.

"Forget about her," Cloud Hands said. "She's gone, probably ran away when she realized the danger we were facing."

"But..."

"Shut up," Cloud Hands said angrily, feeling guilty as she saw the hurt look that crossed Grace's face. But she could not be wiping noses, as Tolsay had accused her. Not anymore.

Not after what she had done.

* * *

The wan sun rose, the rays feeble in the shadowland of Thorns, but strong enough to weaken the armies of the dead. Cold Rain stood near the head of that army, staring out at the lands before him, the lands of the Marukan Alliance.

He reached over and gently stroked the cheek of the zombie that stood at his side. He took its hands and directed them in opening the parasol it carried, then shifting the parasol and hands so the zombie held it above its head. "There you go mother, I know how you dislike the sun."

The zombie moaned almost inaudibly and Cold Rain smiled.

He turned his attention back to the lands in front of him. Then, in the sky, he saw a small speck of black, and he lifted his hand.

Not long after his Black raiton alighted on his wrist. He gently stroked it beak. "What have you come to tell me Baron," he asked as he brought the bird close to his face.

It was how Lady Blood found him as she rode up on her tall stallion, the small Dajalan woman almost looking ridiculous on the animal, the high spirited horse nearly knocking the zombie at his side over. Baron took to the air, cawing loudly at horse and rider as Cold Rain reached down to pick up the fallen parasol and return it to the zombie's hands.

"What has your spy bird discovered," Lady Blood demanded, in her incongruously deep voice.

"The Marukan send forces to the river to stop our advance force, and more are on the march to confront us."

"So it is battle," Lady Blood said, sounding happy. "They march to their deaths." She swung her strange, scissor like weapon from her back, spinning it about. "I will soak the ground in their blood."

"I don't think so," Cold Rain said as he focused on the arranging the zombies thin, stringy hair.

"Why not?" she asked him. "The Marukan are not complex opponents."

"They have certainly behaved as complex opponents," Cold Rain told her, then looked away from the zombie to focus his attention on Lady Blood. "I think they plan to fall back to the Spire."

She shook her head. "That is not the action of the riders. They charge forward and will not hide behind walls."

"Normally I might agree with you."

Lady Blood had not long been a servant of the Mask of Winters and some of her bravado, Cold Rain thought, was brought on by inexperience and uncertainty. She was a wonderfully effective fighter, and made the ghosts and mortals around her love and fear her, but she was not the tactician that the Maiden of the Mirthless Smile was.

"So what will we do? Charge forward and stop them before they can fortify?" she asked. "Shall we engage this force that moves against us?"

"That of course is the question," Cold Rain said.

Lady Blood said nothing for a moment. "You think not. You don't care if they hide behind the walls."

Cold Rain nodded.

"Because you know those walls are not as strong as our enemy might think."

Again Cold Rain nodded, glad to see that there was more to the woman than blood thirst. "We shall await our Master's plan to unfold, let whoever leads them think the walls of the Spire will protect them. This general will learn soon enough that the Mask of Winters has taken everything into account, and you or I shall cut their heart out for their failure to realize this."

Lady Blood smiled and nodded. "Yes, I will enjoy that."


	13. Chapter 12: To Confront the Dead

Chapter 12 - To Confront the Dead

* * *

"No other place to go," Lightning said.

"No other place t' go," Ivory agreed.

Hu growled, his ears flattened against his skull.

The Juggernaut was a vast, impossible thing, almost looking as if it were a feature of the geography as as it lay upon the ground. At a distance one could almost believe that, but up close one was dissuaded of such a belief. It stunk of rotting meat, and worse things, and a nauseating miasma surrounded it.

It was the last place any sane being would wish to tread, and the only place left for their search.

Upon it shoulders rested the soul steel citadel of the Mask of Winters, a dark place which engendered in Lightning a sense of dread that she understood all too well.

A monster inhabited that citadel, one whose power had already shaken Creation.

"We are not going to get anywhere simply staring," Lightning said. "If we move fast we might get out of there while it is still day."

Ivory nodded.

While there were patrols around the behemoth, as well as static guard huts and defences, there were not as many as might have been expected. Lightning supposed that the very nature of the Juggernaut would make it unlikely that there would be many trespassers. A greater amount of security would not have proven much of a barrier, however.

She was a Lunar, and taking shapes that easily went undetected was simple enough for her. Hu moved between shadows, and in the weak sunlight of the the Shadowland there was no lack. And Ivory, whatever essence magics were within that cloak she wore, passed through unseen and unremarked.

As they got closer the smell got stronger, the ground grew muddy with blood and puss, and the sound of Ivory's feet pulling out of the sucking mud sounded loud in the silence close to the vast behemoth, but the few guards that patrolled close to the beast did not seem to notice.

Ivory paused, breathing heavily through her mouth. "This is terrible," she said softly. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Lighthning who wore a form that was not suitable for talking simply waited, seeing if she would in fact be sick.

After a moment Ivory, coughed softly, then shook her head. "I'm okay."

Lightning was not certain that was true, but continued on, Ivory following behind her with the 'schlupping' wet sound of the mud with each footstep.

When they finally reached the side of the behemoth Ivory did in fact end up being sick, bending over and coughing up her breakfast.

Lightning had returned to her human form, and was hidden up against the side of Juggernaut, behind a curtain of torn flesh. Her stomach felt a little rough, but she kept her last meal down. "Are you ready?" she asked when Ivory finally stopped coughing and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I hate this," Ivory said, sounding much like the child she was.

Lightning decided she preferred the little girl to the sorceress. "Come on," she said, reaching out and taking Ivory's hand. "We still have a long way to go."

It was not as hard as Lightning would have thought to climb the behemoth, for the skin offered plenty of handholds, though it did not do to think too much upon it. Ivory did not have it as easy and eventually Lightning had the girl climb upon her back.

"Clarissa-neesan didn't want us coming here," Ivory said softly, her mouth near Lightning's ear, so close her breath smelling sour.

"She's Half Caste," Lightning replied, her tone low so as not to carry, "she is right to fear coming to a place like this." She got her foot solidly settled and then leapt several feet straight up, grabbing a deep fissure in the Behemoth's skin and pulling herself up to ledge formed by a jutting bone. "We're Exalts of the Moon and the Sun. There is no place we fear to tread."

"Right," Ivory said after a moment, Lightning could feel the girl's chin against her shoulder as she nodded.

Ivory's sense of bravery was tested when they reached the portal. A soul steel plug, pushed into the creature, proving access to the interior.

Lightning recalled Clarissa's words, _'My spies have found ways in, it is easy enough, but who would dare enter? It's crazy Daddy.'_

"Crazy, certainly," Lightning said softly.

"What?" Ivory asked, looking away from the hole.

"Let's go," Lightning said, putting her hand on Ivory's shoulder and directing her to enter. She could feel the girl trembling under her hand. _'And you certainly would not take the child in there,'_ Clarissa had also told her. Wrong again girl, she thought, not letting Ivory balk as they stepped down the soul steel steps into the body of the Juggernaut.

* * *

Wet flesh slid under her foot with each step, and the smell, the smell was everywhere. Ivory drew her cloak over her lower face, breathing through the weave. It seemed to help, though she though she sometimes tasted metal on each breath.

While the smell could be dealt with, her other senses constantly reminded her that she walked with in a living, mostly, creature. But she was Exalted, like Lightning had said, and she should not fear to go anywhere.

Those words repeated in her mind when she hid from the patrols of ghosts that cleaned the passages of rot and other detritus that might clog them. They repeated when she pressed herself tight against a wall of soft and reeking muscle as a maggot the size of a cart sightlessly passed close as it ate its way through the near corpse of the Juggernaut. They repeated as she forged a waist deep pool of blood, warm and thick.

As the blood dried on her she hoped she would never again find herself in a place so terrible.

And finally they reached their destination. Soul steel stairs, anchored into bone, led up from the rotting behemoth, up into the citadel that rested up on its back.

Hu waited from them, on the steps, his coat un-fouled by the blood and flesh of the monster she and Lightning has trudged through. Even as she thought that, Lightning's form seemed to shimmer, as if it were liquid, and she and her clothing were pristine.

"That's not fair," Ivory said softly.

They had brought water with them, that Ivory used to rinse most of the dried blood from her, and a change of clothing. _'We don't want you to smell like blood in the fortress,' _Lightning had said. All her fouled clothing, except for the cloak which was as clean as it always was, went into a sealed bag.

Cleaner, Ivory started up the steps, just behind Lightning.

The stairs spiralled through the behemoth's flesh and bone for a time, but it did not take them long to reach the fortress proper, the soul steel edifice that was home of the most terrifying Death Lord in Creation. Well, Ivory supposed, the most terrifying one that she knew of. It was lucky that she was a Solar, otherwise she was certain that she would be petrified by fear.

It was not like the fight at the mountain. That had just been about zombies and demons and things.

As a group they were all so quiet, Hu unseen, Lightning, skilled at taking shapes that would go unnoticed, and she in her cloak.

Ghosts wandered the hallways, proud and regal in their bearing, a stark contrast to the mindless zombies and skeletons that shuffled about, here and there. There were living as well, the sallow faced ghost blooded. There had to be talons of soldiers within the fortress, and it was nearly impossible to travel any distance without finding another group of the fortress' denizens.

Ivory watched them as they passed by, she often pressed against the side of the corridor, or wedged into a small space. The more she saw the more certain she was that there were no death knights amongst the forces. Sparrow had suspected as much, that the most powerful of the Mask's servants would be spread out amongst the satellite forces.

It made her feel better.

Not really knowing where to go, they continued traveling upwards, thinking they would find what they sought, if there was something to be found, higher in the fortress.

Ducking out of the way of a vast phalanx of marching zombies, they found themselves in a stark room, empty but for a table and a rack of what looked like the tools of a surgeon, but not a surgeon who cared much for the comfort or even survival of his patients.

Lightning reached out and drew a claw like fingernail over a steel bone saw.

"How long have we been here?"Ivory asked, her voice soft.

"Hours," Lightning said, turning away from the tools. "I think we are near the summit. We should start looking with more care."

Ivory nodded. She did not want to stay in that place much longer. There was something unwholesome there, something that reminded her of the fear the dark had brought when she had been younger. She hated that feeling of trembling helplessness.

* * *

Dragon had ridden across the plains of Marukan faster than any storm and it had not taken Heron long to return to the the front lines. He rode towards the bowl, a deep depression that opened up the narrow river valley. The Marukan forces had split up on either side of the river, back far from the banks for the ground was muddy and bad for horses.

Around the river stood hundreds of zombies, stumbling about, in a seemingly aimless manner. A number of them were pierced with arrows, but the walking dead were not too inconvenienced by such wounds.

Heron pulled Dragon to a stop, not far from where Nim Preece and his riders had set up a defensive line. When the zombies left the safety of the mud they would be met with fire.

It would not be enough.

"Heron," Nim called, relief in his voice.

"Nim," Heron said, slipping from Dragon's back. "How long have you been here?"

"Since a little after sunrise. Those things were already coming up on the banks."

"Any sign of leaders?"

Nim shook his head.

Heron looked out at the zombies. "How long are you supposed to stay here?"

"As long as we think we can hold out."

After a moment Heron swung back up into Dragon's saddle. "Watch for leaders," he said, and then with a flick of the reigns he sent Dragon into a gallop. Dragon sped off as if he was fresh from the stables, and had not spent days on the run with little rest. The mud was not an obstacle, for Dragon could run on air when Heron willed it.

They crossed the ground easily, and in moments were upon the zombies.

In Heron's hands were his golden pistols; the red jade weapons put aside days before. They boomed, and fire expanded out, setting the wet zombies aflame, reducing many to ashes. And then Dragon was running across the water, towards the far bank, where more zombies awaited.

Again they fell to his fire, and he was passed them, continuing on, up towards the other riders. There he reigned Dragon back. "Nine Fingers," he called.

"Heron, it is good to see you here," he said with a blase tone, as if Heron had not just ridden across the river.

Heron smiled at the man. "I am going to ride back there. Watch for any signs of leaders, as Nim will as well. We'll see if we can destroy their command structure."

Nine Fingers nodded. "Understood. Doron," he called to his second, "tell the men to ready their bows, get Orshan to watch the enemy, she's the sharpest eyes."

"Yes sir," Doron said.

With a smile Heron turned Dragon about and charged back towards the enemy. They moved about, as if they could stop Dragon and himself, and he knew arrows flew about him. He broke their ragged line, leaving bodies burning in his wake on both banks and a moment later Dragon cantered up to where Nim and his men stood, bows drawn, launching more arrows.

"We dropped two or three breathers in that mess," Nim called out, smiling broadly.

"Let's see if you can drop some more." Heron wheeled Dragon around.

"You don't think that will work again?" Nim asked.

"There is only one way to find out," Heron told him as his hands blurred in the reloading of his weapons.

"The horse god favours you Heron Jade Eyes," Nim said respectfully.

Heron nodded. "He favours us all."

Dragon leapt forward and Heron leaned low over his neck, weapons held ready for another wash of fiery destruction.

* * *

One thousand riders, their armour and the leather of their saddles creaking, their tack jingling. More than a thousand horses, for almost every rider led a spare horse, their hooves pounded, raising dust and shaking the ground. Afternoon sunlight glinted off lance tips and other weapons, making the force seem to sparkle in the dust.

At its head was Sparrow, leading from the front, her horse tireless, thanks to the Charms that Heron had taught her. Ride well, Heron had told her, it will give them confidence.

Already they had engaged small pockets of Thorn's forces, mostly scouting parties, and destroyed them completely. It gave the Marukani confidence, it gave Sparrow confidence. However, she tempered that confidence with the knowledge that the main force was likely commanded by Death Knights, and it was quite possible that they would be a match for her.

And then the numerical advantage that the forces of Thorns enjoyed would be even more telling.

Still, an excitement made her heart pound, for she was desirous to test her ability against such an enemy.

One of the forward scouts returned. He came riding towards the host, turning off towards the flanks, to report to one of the sub commanders. Sparrow waited, impatiently, for the report to come to her. Fortunately it was not a long wait. Signals went up. The enemy had been sighted, about an hour ahead. Gerran Wrest rode up to her side. "The scout thinks there are over thirty thousand. Dead for the most part."

Sparrow nodded. "More scouts coming in."

Gerran looked over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a few minutes, once I have some more information." He rode off.

Sparrow looked towards Chala and Bergen. "We'll continue forward. Pass the word. The enemy is close."

The two Marukan looked at each other. Chala asked, "Are we going to engage them?"

"I think so, depending on what the scouts tell me." She looked at each of them, smiling. "We'll let them know the danger of entering the lands of the Horselords,"

* * *

Riders had closed, Cold Rain knew, moving fast, faster than his scouts could track, at the moment. He idly wondered what they might attempt. He could hardly credit that they might be a real threat, not against the vastness of the forces he and Lady Blood commanded.

He stood near the vanguard of the force, amongst the commanders and the graceful dead. The zombies about him standing out.

"Sir," one of the living, a necromancer, said as he approached. "The riders charge the North flank, I do not think they will hold."

Cold Raid nodded, unconcerned. "Is Lady Blood moving to engage?"

"Yes sir."

"If they press, we'll take losses, but crush them."

"Of course sir."

"Send word to Ionia, tell her that I want her to prepare her runners."

"Yes sir." The necromancer bowed low and moved away.

He turned to the zombie at his side and gently placed a hand on her her shoulder. "What do you think mother? Will this leader of the riders be an actual challenge, or are we about to utterly crush them?"

The zombie did not answer but for a soft moan.

He walked the lines, looking over the soldiers and the constructs, a powerful force, one of the more powerful that the Mask of Winters had fielded since he had taken Thorns. And Cold Rain commanded it, not by himself of course, but the Mask of Winters had given him to watch over both the force and his fellow Death Knight.

He had almost returned to his compound when another of his lieutenants ran up to him.

"What is it?" Cold Rain asked, noting that the man was breathing heavily, his uniform in disarray.

"We've lost the riders sir," he said between breaths.

"You've lost them?"

"They were not where the scouts said."

"Find them. I will not..."

He stopped.

The sound of hooves was suddenly loud.

He looked up. "Prepare to engage the enemy," he called out, his voice loud, but calm.

Somehow the riders had approached in stealth. He was not sure how they had managed it, but he supposed the riders had access to such charms. He saw them, they were a dark stain on the land, charging forward, making the ground tremble.

Around him the dead and the living prepared for battle. He sent for his scythe in preparation.

The horses closed, the sound of their approach growing louder and louder. Around him the army prepared to receive the charge, heavy dead constructs moving forward would break the enemy's forward momentum when the time came, as dead and living soldiers moved forward with pikes lowered.

He could see the horses, pick out riders, could see the bows they carried.

Would they open up with an arrow barrage. Weaken his line before hitting it?

Then the riders did something odd, something, he had to admit, that was amazing.

The riders on the edge of the charge slowed and moved towards their centre, and within moments the advance had become a wedge.

"Reinforce the centre!" he ordered.

As his force moved to do so the riders once more surprised him.

The lead riders let fly their arrows, then wheeled about, the horses heading away from them, up their own wedge. The riders behind them followed suit, firing arrows before wheeling away.

It was amazing riding, and he watched it for almost too long. With only a moment to spare he grasped the zombie by his side and dragged her behind a construct.

The arrows tore into his forces, not as a cloud, raining amongst his people, but as a constant stream, concentrated in a small area, the most important part of his army. They ripped through, hail amongst the flowers.

It would have to stop, he thought, eventually the last rider would wheel about and it would end, but that moment was a long time in coming.

When it was finally over and he stood and looked around he saw the arrows had done their damage, concentration had severely damaged a number of the constructs, and too many necromancers lay dead or dying. Even dead they could still serve, but not immediately.

Far away he saw the riders, leaving him behind, the damage done.

That would not stand. "Prepare a forced march. We will go after them as fast as we are able. Let the slower units lag behind us, but I will not let them think they can get away."

Around him his surviving command staff scrambled to follow his orders.

* * *

Sparrow had hung back as her riders had performed what she was thinking of as a cavalry broadside. She had watched, pleased with the manoeuvre, and had ridden off with the last of the riders, prepared to have those riders come about if they were charged as they retreated.

But Thorns' army fell behind, not able to match the speed of the horses.

Soon she rode with the commanders, and while the sound of running horses made is impossible to talk, she yelled out, "The riders performed flawlessly!"

Morale was going to be an important factor, she knew.

* * *

It smelled of blood, thick and coppery.

"I will tear your lying tongue from your mouth," Redigost told the terrified man he held.

"I won't lie, I won't lie," the man said, crying.

He stunk of fear, and his face was covered in tears and snot. Sneering, Redigost slammed him into into the wall, just hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to do any serious damage.

"Traitorous piece of filth," Redigost told him, giving him a shake.

"..not a traitor," he sobbed.

"Liar!" Redigost forced his mouth open and reached past broken teeth for his tonuge.

"Nof, nof," the man gasped around Redigost's hand. "Ha'ed a Dra'n Hlo.."

Redigost took his hand from the man's mouth, leaving his tongue in place. "Hated the Dragon Bloods? You think the Mask would leave Marukan unharmed after killing Lookshy's forces? You pathetic fool." He grabbed the man's chin and forced him to look at the bodies that littered the room. "Do you know why I killed them?"

"They, they didn't know," he sobbed, shaking his head.

"They should have, they should have seen you for the traitor you are. They failed as watchmen for this place."

"They didn't know," he sobbed.

Redigost shook him again. "Now tell me again, about the seven spheres you were given."

"Eight, they gave me eight, it was eight," the man shouted, as if fearing to be caught in a lie.

Redigost smiled. "Tell me of the eight spheres."


	14. Chapter 13: Discovery

Chapter 13 - Discovery

* * *

The vast fortress held its secrets tight, and Lightning feared that they might never uncover what they had come for. Hours had passed as they had prowled around the Mask of Winter's domain, and many times they had almost been caught. There were still a few hours left before the sun would set, and while the sun meant less in the Shadowland, she did not want to remain in the fortress when night truly came.

Ivory walked along beside her, Hu on the other side. The girl stared into rooms as they passed, an upset look on her face, as if not finding anything was somehow a direct slight against her.

Lightning was passing one room, a large, cathedral like room with stained glass windows; she paused, looking back. "Hold it," she said softly.

Ivory ahead of her stopped. "What?"

Lightning said nothing as she looked into the room, the wan sun that came through the windows-the patterns in the leaded glass celebrating death-was broken and stained a myriad of unhealthy colours.

"The reflection," she said.

Ivory had moved up beside her. "What?"

"The light off the altar, the reflection of the sunlight." The altar was a tall pillar of obsidian near the middle of the room.

"What about it?"

"It's too bright."

Ivory stepped forward, halted on the threshold and ran her fingers along the wall before stepping in.

Lightning was close on her heels.

As they closed Lighting could see what was on the altar, a piece of warm, yellow stone, that seemed to catch the weak sun light, and, somehow, add the warmth back to it.

"Oh," Ivory said. She was up on her tip toes, peering at the stone.

"What?"

"I've seen this, it's a Hearth Stone. The other half is in Lookshy."

"This is is?"

Ivory nodded, as she tried to pull herself up onto the altar. Hu moved up behind her and used his head to boost her farther up. Lightning was closing, not willing to reach for the stone until Ivory had examined it for traps or alarms.

She paused, shifting her attention back to the windows, the the shadow that fell upon one.

Grasping Ivory by her collar she pulled her away, bodily tossed her towards the far side of the room as she leapt the other way.

The window shattered inwards in a hail of black arrows. They rained down upon the altar, knocking the stone off of it.

A keening howl echoed through the room, an alarm she supposed.

Following the arrows was the young woman from Lookshy, the one that had attacked Ivory before. The same feeling Lightning had had before, that twisting in her stomach came upon her again.

Lightning had her sword in her hand and she was sprinting across the floor, weapon flashing back and forth, knocking arrows aside.

The archer hit the floor, bounded high, her bow tracking Ivory, letting arrows fly.

Ivory had landed in a crouch after being thrown. She scrambled to her feet, twisting around to avoid some of the arrows. Hu, like some huge, golden arrow himself, flew amongst the black shafts, knocking aside those that might have otherwise hit the girl.

Ivory was running towards the centre of the room, for the stone that lay upon the floor even as the attacker alighted upon the column, her bow coming around the draw a bead on the child.

Lightning dashed forward and snatched Ivory up even as Hu knocked another arrow aside.

"No!" Ivory screamed, her voice almost lost amidst the alarm as Lightning hurled her through the broken window.

As the last of the broken glass was hitting the floor Lightning followed Ivory out of the fortress. She sensed more than saw Hu following her.

She sailed out into the open air, below her the great fall, both the height of the fortress and the monster whose back it rode upon. Not far below her fell Ivory. She looked more angry than scared.

Trusting Hu to take care of Ivory she kicked herself around in the air, facing the way she had come, just in time to see the archer following.

Along her arms the moonsilver tattoos flashed brightly as the blue glow of the coming power shredded the sleeves of her jacket.

The Death Knight swung her bow out, one end of the staves catching one of the many jagged projections that covered the fortress, and with that, propelled herself out of the way of the bolts of electricity that erupted out from Lightning's arms. Behind the falling Death Knight parts of the fortress were blasted away as the attack meant for her hit it instead.

Shifting to a form better suited for flight she crossed the distance between them, then shifted back, swinging out with her blade.

The small woman spun her bow around, knocking the sword aside, but a blast of electricity travelled along the weapon's length and snapped into the woman's hands with force that almost made her lose her grip on the bow.

Somehow, and Lightning felt a strange sense she could not name, she could not help but to be impressed that the death knight held onto her bow, put arrow to string, and fired at Lightning. Lightning had to give up the close quarters to avoid the shot, using her sword to dig into the fortress, slowing so the other woman fell past her.

Then Hu was charging up the side of the fortress, claws finding purchase, an upset Ivory carried in his mouth as if she were a kitten. He stopped and with a flick of his head tossed Ivory towards Lighting as he himself went crashing into the Death Knight.

Catching Ivory and pulling her sword free from the fortress she went plummeting towards the battle below. Ivory might have said 'I am not having fun,' but Lightning could never be certain.

Below the woman kicked free of Hu, a deep, bloody gash across her shoulder from the tiger's teeth. The wound did not seem to impair her, for she fired two arrows at Hu, forcing him to back off, twisting in the air and using part of the fortress to push away from him.

The death knight then used her own clothing to catch the wind, redirect her flight, and slow it down.

Lightning hurled Ivory back the way she had come, sending her speeding up and away from the fight as Lightning herself dropped like a rock to meet their enemy.

Sword and bow clashed, they spun in the air, arrows cut shallow lacerations in Lightning's skin as the electrically charged blade of her sword battered at the archer's defences.

Hu came in as well, teeth and claws harrying the woman.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, and from her bow came a blizzard of arrows and both Hu and Lightning were forced to retreat. That gave her an opening and she shifted her bow to point up at Ivory who was still falling above them, but from the golden webs of light that the girl had woven between her hands came a cloud of deadly obsidian butterflies, swarming down at the archer.

With agility that Lightning had to admire the woman managed to avoid most of the attack, though a few of the razor winged butterflies caught her glancing blows, slicing clothing and leaving behind thin lines of red in her pale skin.

Hu had shifted in the air, catching the side of the fortress, and leapt up, catching Ivory, pulling her around to cover in time to protect the girl from the next volley of arrows the assassin sent up at her.

Lightning on the other hand directed her falling flight at the woman and slashed at her with her sword, pulses of electricity dancing along the blade.

Bow and sword met again, loudly ringing as they engaged each other, still plummeting. Lightning swung herself around, the heel of her boot catching the assassin hard in her wounded shoulder, sending her spinning into the side of the fortress.

The assassin used the stable point of contact to launch herself away from Lightning, giving her more range to send another flight of arrows towards the Lunar. Several of the razor sharp arrow heads cut her as they passed close, but none hit her solidly.

As they passed the foundations of the fortress the huge back of Juggernaut awaited them at the end of their fall.

Lightning flipped around and absorbed the impact, her legs shifting, bone and muscle thickening to prevent injury. The archer hit and rolled, bleeding off momentum across the rotting flesh of the great behemoth.

Legs pumping, necrotic flesh sloughing off beneath her feet, Lightning charged towards her opponent, daiklaive snapping and popping with electrical charges. She caught the woman a solid blow, sending her flying across the bone bladed spinal ridge, her clothing stained with blood from the wound. Before Lightning could follow up she stumbled back, an arrow fired with a desperate snap shot protruding from her shoulder.

The two stared at each other across the dead flesh, both of them breathing hard from the battle. Around the Lunar silver fire danced, while a black miasma flickered across the death knight's form. Lighting tore the projectile from her shoulder as the assassin readied another arrow from her kneeling position.

A growl began low in Lightning's throat, as her body began to shift towards her warfrom, but before it could escape her mouth as a scream of challenge the sound of horn echoed around them.

Both looked about, and from the fortress they saw a small army pouring forth.

They looked at each other again, a promise given when their gazes met, and then both were fleeing in opposite direction.

* * *

Courtesan cursed softly, but with vehemence, her hand pressed against her side, against a wound that was still bleeding sluggishly. Once again she had been stopped. Once again she had come close, but the girl still lived and the whispers in her mind would not leave her alone.

"Why?" she demanded, "why must you do this."

She was on the edge of the city of Thorns, amidst some ruins in which she might take a moment to rest unseen.

"She was within the fortress of one of your Death Lords. Why not have him kill her?"

Sitting down heavily on a broken wall, for once unconcerned with the state of her clothing, she stared at the ruins around her.

Perhaps they were afraid, she thought, afraid that the Mask would not kill the girl but seek to use her. Courtesan would be a fool to not know the actions of the Death Lords did not always mesh perfectly with the desires of their Neverborn masters.

Still, that was a dangerous thought and she did not voice it, nor let it turn over in her mind too much.

Standing, she brushed futilely at her skirt, then continued on. She best gather her things and then get out of Thorns.

She did not think that her quarry would remain their much longer. And she knew she would not be safe if she remained.

* * *

The huge bulk of the Juggernaut was still visible, but Lightning thought that, for the moment, they could pause to consider what had happened and what to do next.

Ivory did not seem to think so. "We have to go back," she said, demanded really. Lightning wondered, not for the first time, how Heron had dealt with her. At times it was terribly easy to forget that she was a Solar Exalted, and see her instead as a spoiled little brat.

"I don't think we can," Lightning responded, looking back the way they had come. "I don't think anyone will be sneaking into that place for quite some time."

"Oh," Ivory said, angry and exasperated, "we have to get that stone."

"The one you said was a hearthstone. The other half of one you had seen in Lookshy?"

Ivory nodded. "I saw it in that vault. I touched it. I should have realized what it was!" She stomped one of her feet and let out a small scream.

Lightning looked around, hoping the noise was not attracting anything. "What can half a hearthstone do?"

"If it is the stone for the manse under Lookshy..."

"There is a manse under Lookshy?" Lightning interrupted.

"An old one. An unstable one. I never saw it, but I knew it was there. If the stone is that one, it's a link. A link to an unstable manse under one of the most military significant," she said significant carefully, as if not wanting to mess up the pronunciation, "cities in this region. My dream makes sense now."

"I see," Lightning said, nodding, and then, "Dream?"

Ivory ignored the question. "We have to get back there! We have to get that stone."

Lightning looked at Ivory, wondering how someone so smart could be so stupid at times. "Let's just go to Lookshy and get the half of stone that is there."

Ivory opened her mouth, but said nothing. For a few seconds she stood there, just staring at Lightning. She closed her mouth and then nodded. "Yes, that would work," she agreed.

"Good. Let's get the Razor. We'll also have to pass word to Clarissa and her people, let them know what might be coming in case they need to run."

* * *

The Heart Spear had brought them to the Spire, a first age fortress that the Horse Lords looked on with disdain. As Cloud Hands climbed from the ship, met by several soldiers, she looked about, coming to a different opinion that that of the Marukani.

An older man in heavy armour looked up at her. "You'd be the Dragon Bloods, sent by Jade Eyes?"

Cloud Hand took a moment before answering, "Yes. I am Abbess Cloud Hands."

"Welcome to the Spire Abbess. You ready for a fight?"

She nodded. "We are."

"Good to hear it. We got a heavy chariot unit that needs a commander. Think you can handle it?"

She did not know if he was trying to insult her or not, but she would not raise to his baiting if he was. "I'll roll the dead under the wheels and show you how the Realm wins battles."

It was a boast that could be turned on her, but the old man smiled. "I'll be glad enough to see that this time. My name's Uthern, Lookshy Foreign Legion, looking after this forsaken place."

Cloud Hands jumped from the Heart Spear and landed near Uthern, clearing the way for the others in the craft so that they might exit. If Uthern was from Lookshy the seal she carried might command respect. Perhaps allies against Heron.

Even thinking of it reminded her of the oath she had sworn, and she knew that would be inviting the wrath of heaven were she to break it while the Mask of Winters still loomed as a threat.

She introduced the others as they disembarked and the old Lookshy soldier nodded politely to each. As he led them across the compound to where the chariots awaited he asked, "Any of you much good at investigating?"

Cloud Hands looked over her shoulder to Tolsay. Tolsay smiled and said, "Might spot a clue, ya. What, someone stole somethin', or maybe you think you got a spy?"

Uthern said nothing for a moment as he looked Tolsay over, and then, "A security squad was found dead in the Tower of the Monk, it's that mid sized one at the west. Not really sure what happened there. Room was sealed. Right now I've got too much happening, but if you want to take a look, I would appreciate it. Nice to give General Sparrow as full report as possible."

"Never say no to helpin's a general, ya," Tolsay said. "Not much for chariots myself, how about get someone to take me up there, I'll give it a look, ya?"

"Very well. Comden, Ritts, take this man up to the tower, let him look around, chase off any gawkers."

"Yes sir," a tall, thin woman, probably Comden, said. "This way sir," she said to Tolsay.

"Lead the way, ya."

Cloud Hands watched Tolsay and the two guards leave them. Once more playing his own game. She looked at the Terrestrials that remained with her. Grace was angry, but still useful, Anzar nervous, but probably useful, and Kihoshi, well, she had no idea what Kihoshi would do.

While thinking about that Uthern lead them the chariot shed. As he had promised, heavy chariots, heavy horses, heavy weapons. And their crews, most of whom looked young and inexperienced.

"Think you can make use of all this?" Uthern asked them.

"Are the men Marukan?" she asked, though the doubted it, the mix of skin colours and hair colours and textures did not make it likely.

"Foreign Legion, just like me. Volunteered for this duty cause the poor bastards figured they would get to ride around in chariots and have an easy time."

"I can make use of all this," she said, looking to Grace, who nodded, and Kihoshi who smiled, and Anzar, who still looked like he might be ill. "They'll ride around in chariots, they won't have an easy time."

"Glad to hear it. The little pusses have pissed me off since the day I got here."

* * *

Tolsay looked about the room. "Lot of blood, ya," he said, kneeling down. "Place been messed with?" He looked at set of bloody foot prints that led out of the room, through the only door.

Ritts was hanging back, out of the room, but Comden had come in, careful not to step in the blood. She looked a little green, but was holding up. "Just the soldier that found it. He reported to Uthern. Uthern looked in and then locked the place up."

"Why did the soldier come in here?"

"The squad was late for their shift."

"Think he killed them."

Comden laughed, but stifled it quickly. "No sir, I don't think he did."

"Might want to talk to him. This is weird ya."

"Weird sir?"

"Killin' like this, Messy, really messy, you don't kill like this 'nless you are sending a message."

"Message? What? that we're not safe?"

"That's a good message, but not what I'm thinkin'," he told her as he walked over to the body that was the least torn apart, careful of where he put his feet. "Neck snapped, turned the head near clear around. Bruisin' around the face." He reached out and carefully opened the corpse's mouth. "Smashed up teeth. And left a message," he said. He reached into the mouth and took out a folded piece of paper.

Comden had moved closer.

Tolsay unfolded it, looked at the clear, strong writing on it. "Says he's a traitor, and the rest are incompetent, says not to waste any grief on them. I'm paraphrasin', ya."

"I don't understand," Comden said.

"Killed the rest to get this one to talk, ya."

"That's terrible."

Tolsay nodded. "Effective though."

"What should be do?"

"Figure if he's a traitor, what the worst he could do? Figure he's not, what's the worse us assumin' he is is going to do?"

Comden had to think about that for a few seconds. "Oh. Should I tell Uthern?"

Tolsay nodded. "I would, ya."

* * *

On the plains of Marukan the Spire was a huge structure, its walls stretching almost a hundred feet above the ground, its dull, gray walls often blending into overcast skies. The sun was low, throwing long shadows across the ground.

Sparrow reigned her horse in slightly, letting the riders pass by her as she stood in her stirrups and looked back the way they had come. The grass was trampled where they had passed, the bent stalks catching the failing light, making their path obvious. Not that they had been trying to pass unnoticed.

Craning her neck she could just make out the forces following them. The main force was moving fast. Punishingly fast. If they were a living force she would expect them to collapse by the time they reached the Spire. However, even an army of the dead would suffer from such a forced march and would not arrive at their best. Ahead of them was another force, moving almost as fast as the horses had. They were long legged runners, their movement strangely jerking; it looked painful.

"Incoming rider," someone nearby called. "It's Dragon and Heron."

The Marukan would always mention Dragon first. Sparrow smiled.

Heron sped to them, in a short time he was pulling Dragon into a trot beside Sparrow. "You've got them on your tail."

Sparrow nodded. "They are as mad as wasps."

"They will throw everything they have against us. The zombie hordes, the blood rains. Just like when they attacked Thorns." Bergen sat nearby, looking concerned at Heron's words.

"I know," Sparrow said simply. "They will throw their poison here, against where we are strong, and where the magic of the Spire protects the lands, rather than against the plains of Marukan where the damage would last. I want them here. I want all their fell magics to fall on us, because this is where we manage it."

Bergen looked surprised. Heron was nodding, as if seeing the full picture for the first time.

"I will use their anger and I will break it on the walls of the Spire," she told Heron and Bergen, but her voice had risen, and the riders that passed around them heard it, and they would pass the story on.

Over head there was a sound, like some gargantuan stringed instrument being plucked, and from the Spire flew several flaming balls. They traced fire across the sky and crashed into the runners.

Sparrow tapped her heels to her horse's flanks. "Anything interesting happening?" she asked Heron.

"A Wyld Hunt has joined in the defence of the Spire."

Sparrow schooled herself, careful not to show shock. "Interesting," she said.

"Truly it is a wondrous world we live in," Heron said. "They came hunting me, and now they hunt the forces of the Death Lords. As it should be."

Sparrow nodded, finding herself liking the sound of that. "Are they skilled?"

"Difficult to say. The Abbess most certainly, the others, well, Ivory and I defeated them."

"Fortunate, but at this moment I might have preferred it was otherwise."

Heron nodded. "Understandable."

"Still," she said, looking up at the walls, "I think we might use them."

"There were also several people killed in the Spire. Unknown assailant. Tolsay tells me he thinks someone is helping us, but won't discount it being a subtle attack."

"Who is Tolsay and what do you think?"

"Tolsay is a Dragon Blood who is helping us for a chance to speak to Ivory, and I am not yet sure what to think yet."

The siege engines fired again, dropping fire on those following them.

"I hope you figure it out soon," Sparrow told him they passed through the gates. "It is probably going to be important."

The gates closed behind them with a deep 'thump'.

* * *

His horse was blowing, its sides covered in sweat, he had almost ridden it to death, and even so he had not caught up to his enemy in time. They were behind walls they likely thought were safe. Ahead of them Ionia and her runners lay burning, laid to waste by fire from the walls.

"I'll lead a force in. The walls will not offer them protection," Lady Blood said.

Cold Rain smiled in spite of his anger. "No need. Our Lord and Master prepared for this."

"Yes," She said, curious. "You said as much."

He reached into the pouch at his belt and drew forth a small, wooden box of black wood. Within was a flute or soul steel. It moaned as he fitted it together, hinting at the music that it would produce.

Over head a ball of flame few and crashed into the zombies not far off.

"I would have preferred vengeance in a visceral way, but this will do."

Cold Rain put the flute to his lips, as if kissing it, and for a moment he left the cold metal against his mouth, as if savouring it. The music that came from it was strange in its depth of tone, as if it came from a long way away, from a great, pressing depth. As the tune climbed into higher notes the living shifted about, discomforted, and even the dead seemed to feel some strange sense dread.

Tears of blood ran from the corners of Cold Rain's eyes, wetting his cheeks as he pulled stranger and stranger tones from it.

Lady Blood shook her head, and lifted her left hand to put it over her ear.

Then, as the music spiralled up into a screeching noise, the explosions erupted; a deep, thumping noise that shook deep in the core of everyone within miles.

However, Cold Rain eyes opened wide in shock, for the explosions did not crack and collapse the walls of the spire and blow its gates open. Instead on the low plain, where the vast majority of his forces had gathered, the ground cracked and ruptured, gouts soil and rock and the broken forms of his soldiers hurled high into the air.

The shaking of the ground knocked his horse out from under him, and even as he rolled clear, the flute lost in the fall, rocks and other things began to fall upon his command forces. As he rose to his feet, his scythe flashing out to knock aside the boulder, he saw one of his necromancers crushed under another of the rocks.

Another vast stone was spinning across the twilight sky, and he knew in a moment where its trajectory would take it. His eyes shifted, his gaze falling upon the stumbling form of a zombie. The dirt under his feet launched up as he sprung forward, charging across the ground, fearful he would not be in time.

A leap took him into the air, his scythe swinging out to shatter the stone.

It fragmented, the still not insubstantial pieces of rock falling about him. Cold Rain turned and used his body to shield the zombie as the rocks slammed into him.

* * *

The ground shook and Sparrow was already running, sprinting up the stairs three at a time, climbing up to the top of the wall. She reached the wide walkway and looked down upon the destruction below. It took her a few seconds to sort it all out, to realize it was not some kind of attack against them.

"I suppose some weapon of theirs detonated." Heron stood at her side, close, not threatening, looking down at the destruction.

Sparrow shook her head. "I don't think so. The Mask of Winters would not be that careless."

"Then what?"

Sparrow looked at the forces arrayed below her, how they had been formed up. She frowned. "I made a mistake."

"What?" Heron asked her.

"Thinking this place safe. Thinking the Mask of Winters would not have considered it."

"Whatever caused the explosion was within the Spire," Heron said, catching up to her.

"Yes. But someone moved it. Put it where it would hurt the dead. The same someone who killed our traitor." She reached for the conclusion.

"Do they want to help us," Heron asked, "or harm the Mask?"

Sparrow did not have an answer, instead she called out, "We've been given a victory at no cost to ourselves, but that just makes the enemy more dangerous. Everyone to their positions, and get all the siege engines firing. Let's hit them while they are down." She turned and strode down the stairs, presenting a front of confidence as her mind turned on the question that Heron had asked.

Who would help them and yet not show themselves?

* * *

Far off in the fortress atop the Juggernaut, in a room that had recently seen battle, one of the Mask's newest Death Knights looked about. She was a tall, thin woman, with long, straight red hair and dark skin. They called her Whispers of the Dead.

A ghost held up an arrow towards her in its fine hands. She took the arrow, looked it over, held it up and gazed down its length. Rubbing her fingers through the fletching she turned her attention towards the wall where the arrow had been embedded.

She was still examining the arrow when she noticed the ghosts about her had prostrated themselves.

Turning smoothly she dropped to one knee, lowering her head. "My lord," she said to the Mask of Winters.

"What have you discovered?"

Whispers swallowed. She was still so new, still so uncertain, but she schooled herself not to show it. "There were intruders within the fortress, two, perhaps three. They were searching for something and they likely found it in this room. Someone attacked them, came from the outside through the windows. The archer was supernaturally skilled. All left through the window."

She did not explain how she had come to those conclusions, likely her Master already knew.

He was silent for a time and Whispers felt a drop of sweat run down her back under her silken robe. Then the Mask knelt and picked up the yellow stone from the floor and placed it on the pedestal. The stone seemed to glow and the ghosts in the room crept back and away, some pushing themselves against the walls.

"Send word to all my servants," he said, voice deep, "tell them we start tonight, though I suspect some of my more enthusiastic servants may have already begun."

"Yes my Lord."

She did not ask if it was wise, or if their enemies had discovered his plans. She simply bowed low before doing her Lord's bidding.

* * *

Cold Rain coughed as he came conscious, felt someone yanking at him. He reacted blindly, lashing out, only to to restrained.

"Calm yourself," someone yelled, a familiar voice coming through the ringing in his ears. He recognized the voice a moment later as belonging to Lady Blood.

Shaking her hands off himself as he stood up he asked, "What is happening?" looking down at her.

"The Mask of Winters has sent orders, we are to start our attacks," she said, laughing softly. "Of course I am not sure how to go about that as we are currently being torn apart."

Cold Rain tapped at the side of his head with an open palm, chasing away the last of the ringing in his ears, and then looked down where he had lain, where a zombie lay upon the ground. "Come along mother," he said, reaching down to grasp its arm before gently pulling the zombie to its feet.

Barron landed upon his shoulder and cawed loudly. He reached up and brushed a finger across the raiton's beak before examining the area about him.

There was a soft hiss and from over the walls of the Spire came a stream of liquid which crashed upon the ground, bursting into flame and scattering some of the troops.

"They are not terribly accurate, being horse soldiers I suppose," Lady Blood said, "but they are getting a little better."

A ball of fire followed and crashed into a siege engine, setting the bone structure aflame.

"How long?"

She looked thoughtful. "Ten minutes."

"You've let this go on for ten minutes?"

"I needed to make sure you were alive," she explained. "Someone has to clean up this mess while I go and take care of those siege engines."

Cold Rain knelt and swept up his scythe. "Go and do that then," he told her, then strode across the broken ground. "Any surviving officers, to me, signallers, send out the call, I want our forces moving about, don't give the enemy a stationary target!"

Behind him he heard Lady Blood calling out to her personal guard. She was laughing.

He was glad someone was enjoying this evening.

* * *

Killing, it was what she lusted for. She wanted to be covered in blood, to look into the eyes of those she murdered. She had been given that ability and she revelled in it.

The Lady Blood knew that there were living victims within the Spire, and she fully intended to kill as many of them as could.

Around her the war ghosts she had taken as her guard were laughing, echoing back her own mirth. They desired death as well. She had picked them for it. Many were so touched by the madness of their Neverborn masters that they were very nearly nephwracks.

Arrows rained amongst them, launched from the high walls, but they were of little consequence to her, for she was moving fast, and her armour was strong.

Then they reached the wall.

Like something out of nightmares the ghosts began to scale the sheer surface, limbs twisting in disturbing directions to gain traction.

Lady Blood did not climb. Her dark essence flared and her cloak billowed up around her, becoming a pair of black soul steel wings. She launched herself into a climb, speeding up the wall, a twisted smile on her face.

Like a wave the ghosts broke over the top of the wall, flowing across it, swords cutting through the defenders that stood against them. Lady Blood crested and continued up into the air. Let them see her and know terror.

Wings beating, soul steel moaning she looked down on the battle.

Her smiled faded after a few seconds.

The initial charge of the war ghosts had been slowed.

Spots along the line held against the attack, and from those points strength seemed to flow out into the defenders.

Unacceptable.

Lips twisting into a sneer she picked out those that had the audacity to try to stand against her.

There, a woman with a huge, white jade hammer, sweeping her war ghosts back.

Farther from her, a small, quick, lean man, twin swords of flaming red jade ended any ghost that dared to come near, cleaving armour and the corpus beneath.

Near the center of the line, a man in dark armour, his huge sword sweeping, like a rip tide taking the feet of his attackers out from under them.

Anchoing the line, another man, a glowing beamklaives, one lit up like the molten rock, the other like fire, drove the attackers back as if they were children.

Unacceptable.

The Terrestrials who dared to stand in her way would die. She was not a war ghost, and would not be vanquished by the likes of the blooded.

Wings folding behind her, she powered into a dive, towards the centre of the line, towards the man in the armour. Break him and it all would fall apart. Her scissors swung around, snapping open, ready to shear flesh and bone.

And then, raising up to meet her, a woman in white robes.

The Lady Blood halted her dive, sweeping out with her weapon to ready for an attack. The woman, a monk, slipped around the snipping blades, her foot kicking up even as she was in the air, leg laid almost across her upper body, the slippered foot hammering hard into the armour around Lady Blood's shoulder.

Then the woman dropped rapidly, landing on the wall below.

She looked up at her.

The Lady Blood was certain that the monk was sneering at her.

She ground her teeth together, but she kept a cap on her anger.

Air aspected monk. At home in the air.

Her own wings were not as much of an advantage.

A skilled martial artist. If Lady Blood could not finish her fast, she might end up wasting time, time while the other Bloods were driving her ghosts back.

She dropped like a streak of black lighting, landing on the wall top, the stone cracking beneath her soul steel boots and small frame. Her cloak settled about her shoulders as she struck out at the monk, fighting with solid ground beneath her.

The monk fell back, hands moving, turning the blades, hands cushioned by air never touching the soul steel.

"You will die here, this night," Lady Blood said, blades snapping together, becoming a sword, driving at her enemy as she stepped forward, stomping her foot down in an attempt to crush the monk's instep. The woman shifted back, protecting her feet, but the scissors point caught her.

It was a glancing blow, but blood stained the woman's robes over her left shoulder.

"I will cut you a thousand times, and you will beg for me to kill you!" With that shout she leapt forward, forcing the woman back, towards the edge of the wall. Of course for an air aspected blooded, the fall would not be a threat, but it would be a symbolic victory.

The monk did not seem concerned, she simply gave up each step gracefully, sometimes countering with an attack that would slow Lady Blood's own advance. It was maddening for she was a Death Knight, an Abyssal Exalted, and this nothing of a Dragon Blood dared to stand against her.

The anger began to blind her, made her forget that this one fight was not the battle, and when the monk suddenly shifted away, out of line with the attack, she was left over extended, on the edge of the wall, watching as fire blossomed towards her.

Behind her her cloak flashed out into wings, lifting her above the flames. Fire licked at her boots as she rose, and the burns caused her pain, as if the flame sought to deny her existence. While she escaped with only a few burns, most of her ghosts were not so lucky. The flame snaked amongst the warriors, bypassing the humans as it seemed to seek out the ghosts. The leading tendrils were like dragons, jaws full of inferno snapping down on the dead.

In moments most of her forces were gone, burnt away, unable to stand against what Lady Blood realized was holy flame.

She looked towards the source of that fire.

On a wall, an impossible distance away, stood a figure. As she watched the figure lowered the flame weapon and then picked up another.

Fear gripped her, and she did not stay, but climbed rapidly, then looped back and dropped below the wall. She did not want to be the singular target of that shooter.


	15. Chapter 14: A Night of Battles

Chapter 14 - A Night of Battles

* * *

Ivory had demanded to fly the craft.

Lightning supposed she should have refused.

Not that that girl had been unable to pilot the Razor, it was just that Ivory discovered it had a top speed that neither Lightning nor Sparrow had known of.

It had been somewhat harrowing, even though they had made excellent time.

Cloaked, the craft was able to get close to Lookshy, avoiding detection, but they could only get so close without the danger of being spotted by someone, so they put down still some distance from the City. Lightning shifted forms and carried Ivory the rest of the way in. It was not long before they reached the vast walls that surrounded the city, having passed by patrols and the encampments outside the city proper.

It was obvious that something was happening within. People were being moved out of Lookshy, soldiers were setting up defences some distance from the city. The ground rumbled as a warstrider lance passed close by.

Shifting back to her human form she asked Ivory, "Do you have a plan to enter?"

Ivory looked around and said, "I have a few ideas. We might need to fight a little."

"That won't be necessary," someone said from close by.

Ivory jumped back as Dreaming Blue strode out of the shadows. Hu leapt forth, putting himself between Ivory and the Sidereal, growling low.

Lightning, who recalled the woman from the tunnels beneath Lookshy drew her blade.

"Put down your weapons," Dreaming Blue said. "This time we are on the same side."

Hu kept his position, in a solid stance, ready to leap forward, ears laid back, teeth bared.

"I am tempted to agree with the tiger," Lightning said as she shifted to the side, moving into a flanking position.

"Hu Kage, you should realize that a weakening of Lookshy is not in the interests of my Fellowship."

For several seconds Hu remained poised to attack, then, slowly, shifted back, into a more relaxed, if still wary, pose.

Lightning took a step back as well, but her sword was still held ready.

"Alright, maybe you do want to help us," Ivory said, "you still might turn on us."

Dreaming Blue sighed, a little too theatrically Lightning thought. "I might, but right now I can get you into Lookshy, without having to fight, and get you speaking to people in power."

"How?" Lightning asked.

"I have powerful allies," she said, and, carefully, likely as not to alarm them, she produced a prayer scroll from within the sleeves of her kimono, took a step towards the wall, and placed the paper upon one of the huge blocks that made up the structure.

The writing upon the strip glowed emerald for several seconds, then faded away, the strip crumbling from the wall, like it was ancient paper, a moment later.

There were a few seconds of unnatural silence, and then from the wall, a figure emerged. She looked like a young, fey woman, short, fine blonde silver hair, pale green eyes, dark skin the colour of night. Her moonsilver laced, black jade power armour seemed almost too large for her, though she wore it well, and her reaper daikliave rode easily at her waist.

"The Goddess of Lookshy," Ivory said.

Lighting, who had also come to the conclusion, nodded.

"This is not a good time Dreaming Blue," the goddess said, her voice high yet hard.

"And I do not come to waste your time," Dreaming Blue replied. "Tien Yu, I introduce to you Kage Hu, god of the fear in shadows, the Lunar called Lightning, and Ivory Peleps, chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Copper Spider."

The goddess looked at them for a moment, then inclined her head politely. "An august gathering, but it does not change that other events claim my attention."

"Lookshy is going to be destroyed, isn't it?" Ivory asked, stepping forward, towards the goddess.

Tien Yu looked down at Ivory. Lighting supposed the goddess was bemused to be addressed by a child. After a moment she nodded. "That is true Ivory Peleps, chosen of the Unconquered Sun."

"Which is bad for you," Ivory said, with the bluntness of a child.

Lightning would not have said that, but she had to hide a smile at the look of confusion tinged with anger that flashed across Tien Yu's face. The goddess looked at Dreaming Blue. "You are wasting my time," she accused.

"Peleps Ivory, you came here for a reason, tell the goddess," Dreaming Blue said.

Lightning wondered if Ivory would put up with the order.

"I need to get to Vault Nightengale Seven, immediately. Once I see that, I can help."

"You don't even know what is happening in Lookshy," the goddess said. "Unless you are the cause of it."

They were going to have to fight a goddess, Lightning thought.

Ivory only laughed. "I am a Twilight Caste of the Unconquered Sun," she told the goddess, drawing herself up to her full, less than impressive height. Lighting suddenly wished she had not cut and dyed the girl's hair. She would look a little more impressive with long, red hair. "I can call on the highest levels of sorcery and make the most powerful demons bow to me."

Which was all true enough, Lightning thought, and sounded impressive. Tien Yu seemed to think so, for her posture relaxed slightly.

"If I wanted Lookshy destroyed," she continued, "it would be gone."

After a moment the goddess of Lookshy nodded and asked, "Do you really think you can help?"

"Get me to the Vault."

Tien Yu nodded and held out her hand towards the sidereal. "Take my hand," she said to Dreaming Blue, "and the rest of you hold onto her kimono. No one let go."

Dreaming Blue took the offered hand, and Lighting reached out and grasped the silk of the kimono sleeve. Ivory stepped forward and took hold of the obi around the Sidereal's middle. Hu did not join them, but Lightning supposed the tiger would make his own way. Fear in shadows she thought; it explained a few things.

Tien Yu led them to the wall, and she slipped within the material, and Lighting and the others passed through as well. They were, Lightning thought, moving through the city. Not the empty places, streets and rooms and such, but through the very substance of the city itself. A path that was as straight as anyone might wish, and while she had no sense of speed, she supposed they were moving very fast.

And then they were in a corridor, a vault door in front of them. "Nightengale Seven," Tien Yu told them. "Warded. It will take me a moment to open..."

Ivory stepped forward, did something to the lock, and a heartbeat later it opened. She looked up at Tien Yu and said, "I've been here before." Her tone held a note of superiority.

Tien Yu looked shocked and watched as Ivory walked into the vault as if she owned it and everything in contained.

Lighting, feeling a little sympathy for the goddess moved closer and said, "That tone always makes we want to hit her too, and it helps if you remember that she is prone to suck her thumb when she is asleep."

The goddess looked at Lightning and shared a smile.

"I knew it," Ivory said from within the vault.

Dreaming Blue had already entered, Lighting and Tien Yu followed, Hu padding in silently beside them, having appeared out of a shadow somewhere.

Ivory was looking up at a shelf, upon which was a sphere of orichalcium rings, a soft whine coming from it, a strange blur about its surface.

Climbing up onto the shelves, she whistled softly, blowing air into the sphere.

The rings snapped down into a disk, in which was suspended a golden stone. Ivory reached up and grabbed the stone, then fell from the shelf and landed on her bottom on the floor. She started at the stone for a few second, and then held it up towards Lightning. "A fractured hearthstone, perfectly cut."

"And the other half is in Thorns," Lightning said to Tien Yu.

Ivory, still sitting on the floor, looked up at goddess. "The Solar Manse beneath the city is running out of control, it is going to overload and explode with enough force to wipe Lookshy off the map."

Tien Yu nodded.

Ivory got to her feet and placed the stone on a nearby table. She looked around the room. "I think," she paused, "I think I can stop it, or control it. I will need to go to the manse, and I will need help."

Dreaming Blue spoke up, "Tien Yu, ask Karal Linwei to join us. Tell her we can vindicate her daughter as well as save the city."

Tien Yu seemed to consider the request, and then she nodded. "I understand," she said, and then turned and walked from the vault, a moment later disappearing into the wall of the corridor.

Dreaming Blue turned her gaze onto Ivory. "Be polite to Linwei, you are an answer to a prayer for her, but only if you can be at your best, and that will take more than just saving this city."

"Why?" Ivory asked.

"Her daughter has also been chosen by the Unconquered Sun. You can be the example that Linwei needs."

Ivory was quiet for a moment, but she nodded. "I understand."

Lighting was surprised at how sincere that Ivory sounded.

* * *

Cold Rain had restored some semblance of order. He had his troops moving, in small groups to make them harder targets to hit, and he had moved the siege engines and other heavy gear into what cover could be found.

That helped, but the slow moving zombies troops were taking the brunt of the fire from the Spire's siege engines, and his own war engines were next to useless until he had some time to get them set up. Given time his heavy units would catch up with the main force, but that was only of value if the main force still existed.

As he watched another flaming sphere crash into a platoon of zombies, he knew the Mask of Winters would not forgive he or Lady Blood for this debacle. Only complete victory now might spare them the worst punishments.

To think the best he could hope for was imprisonment and torture.

"Why the hell hasn't the bitch stopped the siege engines," he called loudly.

One of his necromancers said, "Sir, the Lady Blood returned several minutes ago."

He looked towards the woman. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you..." her words were cut off in a yelp of terror as Cold Rain was suddenly directly in front of her, his nose almost pressed to hers.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"With the Wrack Gun," she stammered.

Cold rain turned and left her, running towards where the Wrack Gun awaited, barely protected by the raise he had got it behind.

The Lady Blood, her entourage of ghosts missing, was yelling at the gun's commander, "You will move this into firing position."

"But my Lady..." the man began, but his words were stopped by a punch that smashed into his stomach and folded him up, leaving him lying on the ground.

"You will move this gun into firing position!" she screamed down at him. It almost seemed comical.

"Enough of that," Cold Rain said, and Lady Blood spun to face him. "Until the enemy siege engines are destroyed we cannot risk moving the Wrack Gun or any of our war engines out of cover."

"The siege engines are not an issue," she said, "there is a Solar on those walls. We need something heavy to take them out."

"A Solar?"

"Who calls on holy flame, who wiped out my forces."

"That explains much then. Things become more difficult." His tone was calm, but his guts were churning. Matched against a Solar, how could he expect to win?

"Get this gun up. I will draw the Solar out," she said.

"A simple plan, almost as simple as you."

"What did you say?" Lady Blood demanded, looking up at him.

"Even if we could bring the Wrack Gun and all the other weapons into play do you think they would really be effective against a Solar? Would they be effective against you."

Lady Blood shook her head after a few seconds. "No."

"You will gather up the fastest troops you can find, you will attempt to enter the Spire, to destroy those siege engines," he told her.

"Impossible," she stated flatly.

"I don't care if you succeed or not, I just need our enemy focused on you. Try not to get killed."

Cold Rain shifted his attention to the commander, still laying on the ground. He pulled him up into a sitting position and set him against one of the Wrack Gun's wheels. "Go, fetch a surgeon for the Commander," he ordered one of the gun's crew, then he settled his gaze on the hurt man. "Commander, you will have your men dig, they will hollow out this raise and turn it into a cave in which you can set the Wrack Gun up. You will send out spotters to identify from where within the Spire those shots are coming from and we will identify the siege engine's positions that way. Then you will fire indirectly to take them out."

The man tried to speak, but Cold Rain silenced him with a finger across his lips. "It will take time, I am aware. I will send you all the help I can without drawing the enemy's attention. Do not fail me." He looked to one of the crew members. "Take these instructions to all the other commanders. I want every siege engine dug in and ready for counter artillery as soon as possible."

The Abyssal stood and looked towards Lady Blood, who still stood near by. "Go," he told her, voice snapping.

She nodded and then turned and ran.

Cold Rain climbed upon the raise and looked towards the Spire as another flaming ball crashed into his forces.

He was well and truly fucked.

* * *

Karal Linwei pushed maps and charts around on the large field table, she wrote notes, her brush sweeping across the paper so fast it was amazing that there was any writing there, let alone writing that was legible. Each order she gave was concerned with the evacuation of Lookshy, of setting up defences that they could move their people into.

She was certain that once the manse under the city blew some enemy would appear to take advantage of their weakness. Who that enemy would be was still a mystery. It was not as if the Seventh Legion lacked for enemies.

Messages came to her almost as fast as she sent them off, and she added them to her pool of information.

She was in the process of writing another batch of orders when the soldiers around her quieted. She looked up from her work and saw a young woman in black jade armour walking towards her.

"Tien Yu," she said respectfully, lowering her head. "You do me a great honour."

"I need you," the goddess said.

Linwei considered that for a moment, what she was currently doing balanced against the request of the City's goddess. "Very well." She looked towards one of the soldiers. "Kazei Tenfu, you will continue with the evacuation and reinforcement, as ordered."

"As you say Taimyo."

"Let the general staff know that I will be with the goddess."

He nodded.

"I am at your disposal," she said to Tien Yu.

"Please follow." Tien Yu turned and walked out of the camp, towards the city.

Linwei did not ask for an explanation. There was only one reason that the goddess would seek her, or anyone, out at a time like this.

Her role would be explained as soon as she needed to know.

They approached one of the city's outer defence towers.

"Take my hand, and do not let go," Tien Yu said.

Linwei did as directed, taking the goddess' gauntleted hand.

Tien Yu walked into the tower wall, slipping into it as if it were water. Linwei was pulled in behind her.

She had read of the phenomena, of the manner in which Tien Yu could travel throughout the city, and of those blessed to be taken in the same manner. If she survived what came she would write her own impressions of the journey.

In a short time they stepped from the solid matter of the city, out into one of the underground tunnels, near some of the vaults.

She stared at the open door of Nightingale Seven, and the people within.

"Who are you?" she asked, striding into the vault, releasing her hold on Tien Yu's hand. She paused. "You," she said looking at the child, "you are the Anathema."

"I prefer the term Solar, Peleps Ivory is even better," the girl said, bowing to Linwei.

"Peleps?"

"From the Realm, yes," Ivory said. "Though I do not represent the Realm."

"Of course," Linwei said sarcastically. "That was my main concern."

"I am called Lightning," one of the women said.

"The horse trader."

"My reputation proceeds me," Lightning said, smiling.

"And I am called Dreaming Blue," the other woman said. "You will not know me."

"Oh, and that is Hu," Ivory said, pointing behind Linwei.

Linwei could not help herself from starting at the sight of the tiger who sat near the door. It dipped its huge head towards her. "Tien Yu," she said, looking towards the goddess.

"I believe that Ivory Peleps has the best chance to save this city from the manse. She will need your help to do so. She may also benefit you in respect to your daughter."

She looked back towards Ivory. "That child?"

"That child," Tien Yu said in agreement.

"How can you be sure?"

"Tu Yu speaks in his sleep, I know what the Copper Spiders are capable of."

"Very well," Linwei said, easily making her decision. "What do you need?"

"Access to the Solar manse, the help of your sorcerer engineers, and Maheka Yoti."

The puzzled looks from Lightning and Dreaming Blue showed they were just as confused by her final request as Linwei herself was.

"Why Yoti?"

"He has something I might need," Ivory said in way of explanation.

Before anyone could ask for further clarification Tien Yu said, "I can bring you close to where Maheka Yoti works."

"Please do so," Linwei said.

Tien Yu held out her hand to Linwei. She took it. She felt someone grab her other hand and looked down into the face of Ivory. "I will save your city," she said to Linwei.

Linwei nodded, wanting to believe the girl.

* * *

The engineers gathered in one of the ancient tunnels, ahead of them a vast construct of white jade and rock that they attempted to drive down the corridor, past a field of energy that made the jade smoke and pushed it back against them.

Yoti yelled above the sound of cracking jade and the raising sound of the energy cascade, "Reinforce the wedge, triple the power output."

His people worked to follow his orders, but Ivory, who approached from farther up the corridor, could tell from the look of the jade, from the sounds around them, that it was not enough.

"Taizei Maheka," Linwei called out.

Ivory stopped farther up the corridor, watching as the short man turned to face Linwei, "Taimyo Karal," he said, obviously not expecting a member of the General Staff. He shifted his gaze and his eyes widened slightly. "Tien Yu."

Ivory let Linwei explain their presence there, her attention focused on the many pillars that lined the corridor. She walked to one and ran her hand along it. Where her hand touched a seam appeared, running the length of the pillar. She pulled open the panel.

"What are you doing?" someone asked.

She heard Lightning say, "Don't worry, it's under control."

The essence circuitry was ancient, and long in need of repair, but well constructed. She reached into the cavity, her fingers touching relay points and fusing them with the conduits. "There," she said, and traced an old realm character onto the central pad.

She heard a soft sound, a 'whoomph', and then a crash as the jade wedge suddenly slid down the corridor, unimpeded.

"What happened Yoti demanded of his men."

"I don't know yet sir. It looks like the essence vents have been closed."

"Closed and bypassed," Ivory said, turning around. She saw that Lighting was holding back one of the engineers.

Ivory walked to the stocky man in charge, but looked to Linwei.

"This," Linwei said, "is Peleps Ivory. She is here to help."

"This child? Taimyo, this is not a time for jokes."

"She's not making them," Ligthning said, approaching. "Who do you think just opened the path for you." She looked at the young engineer she had been keeping away from Ivory. "Tell him what you saw."

Yoti turned his gaze on the young man, who seemed to wilt under it. "She opened a panel in one of the columns sir. She did something, and then the essence flow was cut off. Maybe it was a coincidence."

"A coincidence?" His neutral tone was probably an indicator of anger, for the young man paled.

Ivory shifted her attention from Yoti to his armiger. Up close it was even more impressive.

"Girl!"

Ivory returned her attention to Yoti. "Ivory."

The corner of his lip twitched, and he said, "Peleps, what did you do?"

"Repaired the essence regulator back up and used it to issue a bypass sub routine to the small god which maintains this section. Its not the best solution you see, the entire mechanism will have to be taken apart to get them to open again, but that is the least of the issues here."

She smiled at the man, though she did not fool herself that it would win him over, but it was the polite thing to do. "I can help you save this city, if you help me."

He looked at her for several seconds, then up at Linwei and Tien Yu. "This is the truth?"

"Am is the kind of person to lie about something like this?" Linwei asked him, her tone taking on a hardness.

"Of course not Taimyo," he said, ducking his head slightly. He looked to his men. "Alright, gather up you tools, we're heading into the manse."

Ivory watched the sorcerer engineers and their mortal assistants as they got ready to go. She moved closer to an older, grey haired woman and asked, "Is that a step up essence transformer?"

The woman looked a little surprised, but said, "Yes, but how did you know?"

Ivory was about to answer when Yoti snapped, "Peleps, you have a promise to keep, stop badgering my people."

Ivory smiled at the woman and then turned and ran to catch up with Yoti, who had already started down the tunnel.

"You are being remarkably civil," Dreaming Blue said as Ivory passed her.

"For the moment," she answered in passing.

"What are you, some kind of Realm Savant Freak?" Yoti asked her when she caught up to him.

"Taizei, she is my guest and I will not have you speak to her like that," Linwei said softly.

The engineer scowled. "Understood, but the question still stands."

"What I am is complicated," Ivory told him. "I can keep this manse from blowing Lookshy from the face of Creation. If you want to consider me a Realm Savant Freak, I won't mind."

"Very well Savant, we have a runaway essence reaction happening in a manse that has not seen the maintenance it should. Tell me how you are going to stop that?"

"I will activate the Four Sisters," she told him.

His stride faltered for a moment. "How? That system is not active, has never been active."

"I am going to take that step up transformer that woman behind is carrying, wire it into the central control organ, and use it to burn our the main linkage to the factory central control. That will bring the Four Sisters up."

"How do you know this?" he asked her. "How do you even know about that system?"

Ivory said nothing for several seconds, giving the question some thought. "It was a standard feature required for all factory manses built at this time."

It was true, though she would not be able to answer him as how she knew that.

"Alright," he said. "my people will help you. It's about all the choice we'll have."

"It's a good choice, not your only choice," she said.

The man looked at her as they walked, as if trying to make sense of her.

Ivory kept at his side, nearly running to keep up, shifting her attention between the manse's condition and the armiger that paced Yoti. It was an impressive piece of magitech, and she desperately wanted it.

They entered the central chamber of the manse, a huge, spherical space, its walls studded with the tools required to build anything that might be desired. The central control organ was placed on a suspended walkway that extended out into the centre of the sphere.

"Get that step up transformer over here," Yoti ordered as Ivory and he dashed across the walkway to the organ.

Ivory loved the thing, it was amazing, cleverly built, and even suffering from neglect it was so wonderful. "I could spend hours just looking at this," Ivory said, running a hand down an adamant conduit through which ran fine cables of orichalcium, moonsilver and jade alloys.

"We don't have hours," he told her, looking at the organ with a much more critical eye.

"That's true I s'pose," Ivory said, and clambered up onto the organ and ripped the casing away from a section near the top. "Transformer please."

It was handed up to her.

She jammed the tool into the organ, ran her own essence through it, the secret ingredient as it were, and then jumped down a moment before the organ overloaded, essence crackling over it and smoke pouring out of it.

Around them the few status screens that still operated went dark,

"Is this supposed to happen?" someone asked.

Then there was a snapping sound, and the screens came back up, brighter than before, as did others, long before since fallen to darkness. A small few over loaded and burst with sparks before going dark once more.

Ivory looked around and smiled. "This is exactly what is s'posed to happen." She ran to one of the monitors and looked it over. "I need someone strong," she told Yoti.

"Caldon!"

"Sir," a tall, broad shouldered woman said, stepping forward.

"This way," Ivory said to the woman, leading her towards the wall of the chamber. She put her hand on a heavy leaver. "I want you to pull this down, and hold it down, no matter how hard it kicks."

"Understood."

"The moment it stops fighting you push it up, hold it up, until you start feeling resistance, then jam it back down again, maintain the pattern."

She nodded and moved forward, grabbed the lever, and pushed it down as required.

"Explain that to me," Yoti said as Ivory want to another monitor.

"She's forcing open a primary essence bypass, it will keep the reaction under control."

"And when it stops fighting her?"

"The system is compensating, she resets it when she pushes it back up."

"Near constant pressure out flow," he said.

Ivory nodded and then asked, "Do you have anyone who is musical?"

"What?" he asked her.

"Sir," a man said, stepping forward, "I sing in a choir, and I play the samisen."

"Are you any good at it?" Ivory asked.

"Yes," he told her.

"Got perfect pitch?"

"Yes."

"You'll do," Ivory said, and led him and Yoti over to a wheel valve taller than she. "Can you hear that sound, like a whistling?"

"Yes, it's a B flat," he told her.

Ivory smiled. "Turn the valve to the left, until that whistling goes up two or three octaves, then turn it right and let it go down about one octave lower than it is now."

"And then repeat?"

"No, then you want to go up one octave, then down two, and then repeat."

"I understand." He stepped forward, grabbed the wheel, and began turning it.

"That's one of the primary essence flow regulators," Ivory told Yoti before he could ask. "He's maintaining a steady flow, it will help keep the Four Sisters working correctly."

"I understand," he told her.

"Good," Ivory said, running to another screen.

Over the next several minutes she led Yoti about the area, setting his people to various tasks, some more esoteric than the others. Finally she ended up back at the control organ, looking about. "This is as good as it will get," she said.

"So the manse is no longer a threat?" Linwei, who had gathered at the organ with Lightning and Dreaming Blue, asked.

"No," Ivory said, "it is still going to overload and undergo an explosive discharge in about fifty three minutes." She looked as one of the screens on the organ.

It was Tien Yu that found her voice first. "You said you would save the city."

"I know. I will, but it's a century too late to stop this explosion. What I can do concentrate it so instead of an 'plosion, it will discharge in a beam, about one hundred feet in diameter. That's about as controlled as I can get it."

"That still represents a great deal of potential destruction," Yoti said. "Depending on where it comes out."

"Do you have something I can draw on?"

Linwei took a sheaf of paper and a pen from her jacket, Yoti produced a crystal tablet and stylus. Ivory took the tablet and stylus from Yoti and sketched out a quick map of Lookshy. She then drew a circle around the most of the Old City, the warehouse district and the Green Hunt. "I can discharge it in any place with this circle."

"No where in the Old City," Linwei stated.

"What about the Green Hunt," Lightning said.

"There is vital underground infrastructure that would destroyed along that path," Yoti told her.

"Between the Warehouse and the Port Districts," Linwei said. "We'll have to deal with fires, but it will be the easiest to evacuate."

"It will minimize the damage." Tien Yu's said simply, in a tone that made it clear she was not pleased.

"There is some infrastructure we'll lose, but it can be fixed." Yoti looked at the map Ivory had drawn. "Can you increase the size of the circle, or tighten the beam's diameter?" he asked her.

Ivory shook her head. "Not in the time we have."

"Who is your fastest runner," Linwei asked Yoti.

"Garden, front and center!"

A tall man ran up to Yoti. "Sir!"

"We have messages for you to run," he told the man.

"Take what we give you directly to Maheka Lespa," Linwei told Garden. She took a jade badge from her jacket and handed it to the man. "Present to any who try to detain you."

"Yes Taimyo," he said, taking the badge.

Linwei and Yoti quickly wrote orders and pressed them onto Garden. He saluted, turned, and sprinted off, faster than a horse might run, his anima chilling the metal of the walkway as he passed.

Ivory took a position at the organ and began to work, setting the essence flow to erupt as a contained beam that would burn its way up into the warehouse district, as she had promised.

"Impressive work," Dreaming Blue said.

"To bad we can't find a way to direct the beam once it exits the city. It sounds like it will be a hell of a blast." Lighting leaned over Ivory.

"It would take at least a day to build a reflector of the necessary size, and that much time again to properly aim it." Ivory pulled a panel from the organ and reached in, repairing damaged components with her bare hands.

"That is too bad," Tien Yu said, her tone clipped. "I would see it directed to the heart of Thorns."

Linwei and Yoti voiced their agreement. Ivory closed the panel, frowned, and then asked the goddess, "What did you say?"

"I would see it directed at the heart of Thorns."

"Oh," she said, nodding, and then again, "oh," her voiced raised. "Of course. I should have thought of that."

"Ivory?" Lightning asked.

"Essence resonance," Ivory said, grabbing up the crystal tablet, and wiping her drawing from it. Stylus whispering across the surface she began to write out calculations on it.

"What are you doing?" Dreaming Blue asked.

"Motoic uncertainty," she said, "x equals 5 days," the stylus rapidly skittered across the crystal surface. She looked at what she had written, for a few seconds not at all certain what it meant, then her mind caught up with her hand. She looked up from the tablet. "Tien Yu, go to the vault, get the half hearthstone there," she paused, thinking, "and the moon silver cylinder."

"Why?" Tien Yu asked.

Ivory held up the tablet towards the goddess. "Look!"

Tien Yu turned her head to the side. "Is that supposed to mean anything?"

"Do as she asks," Dreaming Blue said. "We'll get an explanation from her."

"Very well," Tien Yu said, disappeared as she entered the solid matter of the city.

Ivory looked at the cyrstal, wondering how she was supposed to explain it.

"Simple terms," Dreaming Blue said. "What is it you plan to do."

Ivory took a deep breath. "I am going to focus all the energy of the manse's explosion into the hearthstone and it is going to discharge through the other hearthstone in Thorns."

"Is that even possible?" Lighting asked.

"The stone exists in a dual reality co-space flux, that's why is did not shatter when it was split."

"So it is in two pieces and yet it is whole," Lightning suggested.

"No, it is in a dual reality co-space flux."

"Excuse my ignorance," Lightning said with a roll of her eyes.

"How can you channel the entirety of the manses discharge through a stone?" Dreaming Blue asked.

"It's possible," Yoti said, "in theory I suppose." He held his hand out and Ivory handed him the tablet. He looked it over for several seconds. "I only understand maybe half of this, but," he frowned, "I suppose it is possible."

"What is possible," Tien Yu asked. She had returned, holding the stone and the cylinder.

"I am going to blow up the Mask of Winter's citadel," Ivory told the goddess as she first took the cylinder, which she handed to Lightning, and then the stone.

"Can you really do such a thing?"

"Yes," Ivory said.

"Probably," Yoti added.

"It will work," Ivory told him crossly.

"And the reprucussions if it does not work?"

"The same as before, we blow up a section of the city to save the entirety."

Tien Yu regarded Ivory for several seconds before saying, "Then I approve."

"Good." Ivory looked around. "I need to get to the centre of the manse, the hearthstone chamber." She looked up and with her free hand, the other cradling the half hearthstone to her chest, pointed up. "There."

"Cables," Yoti called.

* * *

"Dual reality co-space flux," Lightning said, shaking her head as she watched the engineers set cables in place, "what is that even supposed to mean?"

"No idea," Dreaming Blue said, watching as well. "It looks like she barely understands it herself."

"Not that I do not appreciate your aid, but," Linwei started to say.

"You need that little Solar to let everyone knows just who saved the city, which she has not yet," Lightning said. "Don't worry. She will."

"And how can you be sure?"

"She's a child who lives for letting people know just how smart and special she is. She has something planned to make an impression."

Linwei nodded. "If the Mask of Winters planned this, I suspect he will have forces in the area, ready to swoop in."

"Have your scouts found signs of such?" Dreaming Blue asked her.

"No, but I can only assume they are in the area."

"Sparrow thinks his forces will be stretched thin. If Lookshy stands, they probably won't attack."

"A valid conclusion, but we will stand ready none the less."

Lightning only smiled, and turned her attention to the working above. Yoti and Ivory-who was carried by Yoti's armiger-were climbing the cables towards the roof.

"What," Linwei said suddenly, "if the Mask of Winters some how has moved at the other half of the stone into the city."

It was, Lightning thought, a valid point, but before she could say anything to that effect Tien Yu said, "He has not."

"Are you sure of that?"

"At this moment I know of every thing and person in the city. And while I cannot precisely identify exactly what and who they are, I can say with certainty that the other half of that stone is not here."

"A useful talent," Dreaming Blue remarked.

"And a costly one," the goddess countered.

"No idea what that is about, but as long as we know the stone is not here. As soon as Ivory is finished, we'll be leaving, immediately. I would appreciate your help in getting us free of the city as rapidly as possible," Lightning said to Tien Yu.

"I think that will be for the best," the goddess agreed.

"You still have to fight the Mask of Winters," Linwei said.

"Yes, some of my friends will probably need help."

"What are the," Linwei paused, "Solars like."

Lightning found herself meeting the gazes of Dreaming Blue and Tien Yu. After a few seconds she said, "It is complicated. None of us were alive to know the Solars at the peak of their powers, all we have are stories and some of us can claim vague memories."

She waited to see if the other were going to add anything, and then continued. "Let's say over the next few months someone in the General Staff suggests contacting Ivory, to get her help in decommissioning this manse, or even getting it working correctly. Possible?" She looked at Linwei.

"Yes, possible," Linwei said.

"She would do it, I think. She likes fixing things. And she would get bored of it, so she would take a break by repairing your Sky Fleet, and anything else that she could put her hands on. Eventually it would be just something that you would expect and accept. And one day she would be part of the General Staff, and you would not even think that strange. In fact, you would wonder how you managed without her being there.

"That's how it is with Solars. They just become important."

"Not only Solars," Dreaming Blue said.

"True, but it seems we have to work at it a lot harder."

Linwei was quiet for a time, obviously thinking about it. "We will have to be very careful then."

* * *

Sparrow stood upon the wall, looking down at the enemy. They were in disarray, but, she was certain there was a pattern, a purpose in what they were doing.

Behind her she heard someone talking to her staff, but she did not really give it her full attention until she heard someone call her name.

A young rider, a man named Linsen, stood beside a tall man, spiked hair, tight pants, a pair of tinted glasses covering his eyes, odd at night. It took her a moment to put a name to the man, Tolsay. One of Heron's new allies. The pilot and investigator.

"You have a report for me Tolsay," she called out.

"Right ya, been flyin' over the zombies right."

"Yes," Sparrow said, wishing she might be in a flying craft. If she had pilots instead of riders and sky craft instead of horses, it would be a truly different battle indeed. She turned her mind away from such thoughts for they did not help at the present, but she would not forget them. "What have you seen."

"Got some deaders doin' some digging, ya. Got some small bits of cover out there."

"Thank you. That is most valuable." She turned again, looking out over the field of battle. After a few seconds she was heading off the wall, passing between Tolsay and her staff. "Prepare the riders, we are going fourth. Cut our fire by a quarter, use the time to start moving the catapults and other siege engines around. I want every mobile unit moved to a new position in the next thirty minutes."

People ran off to follow her orders.

"You're good at that, ya," Tolsay said.

Sparrow looked over at the Dragon Blood who was walking with her.

"Where will you be more useful, in the air or on the ground?"

He said nothing for a few seconds. "Good question, ya. No weapons in the air, but good surveillance. Probably gonna try and shoot me down."

"Can you get the information to the ground?"

"Got flares. Work out somethin' with your signallers, ya."

"Do that. When and if the sky gets too hot for you put down, we'll probably be able to use you on the ground if you do."

"Got ya."

"Are you looking to get in trouble over this?" Sparrow asked. "Helping Heron and myself and the Marukan?"

"I'll keep it quiet if you do, ya."

Sparrow smiled and nodded.

* * *

Orders were passed throughout the Spiral. The riders would be attacking.

It was an order that set well with them, and Heron supposed it was the best choice.

"Heron," Bergen called as he rode up. "Sparrow wants you to take Nine Fingers and Nim's units, she wants you to open holes. You will be going out first, she said she will have the way cleared for you."

"Understood. What about you?"

Bergen looked about. "We'll be smashing the enemy units, heavy scales and lancers under Sparrow's lead."

"I'll try to leave you some worth smashing," Heron told him.

Bergen smiled and nodded. "I'll appreciate it. Ride well Heron." He brought his horse about and galloped off.

Heron whistled for Dragon as he walked across the large staging grounds. When Dragon caught up to him he swung upon the horses broad back and rode to where Cloud Hands and her Dragon Blood's waited.

Cloud Hands saw him coming and walked towards him. Near the chariots Anzar and Kiyoshi waited, listening. Father back was Grace who stared hatred at him. Heron wondered if he was going to have to kill her before the night was out.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked Cloud Hands.

"I am," she told him.

He looked over the forces she had been provided with. Thirty three heavy chariots, horses, teams, half the chariots outfits with rapid fire ballistae. Stores put in place by Lookshy. Normally the Marukan would have left them, but with the four Dragon Bloods they were a useful addition.

"You will follow my forces out, but once you clear the gates break off from us. We will be making holes in the enemy formations, keeping them off balance. I want you to search out high value targets and take them out, or at least keep them busy."

"I understand," she said.

Heron could tell that she was not happy to be taking orders, his orders, but he trusted that she was an ally, until the Mask was defeated. "Good."

"The dead will fall," Cloud Hands said. "They are an offence to the natural world and the decree of the Dragons."

For a moment Heron thought to point out that he was also an offence to the Dragons, but supposed it would not do to push the abbess too much. He only nodded and then turned Dragon and rode off to join the forces he would be leading.

* * *

Sparrow had been provided with a fresh mount, a tall, white stallion, one that likely had the blood of gods running through it. Possibly the Marukan had given her the beast as a suitable match for Heron's Dragon: both their Solar commanders had to be properly mounted. His name was Dawn Fog, which she took as a good omen. He was an angry horse, not one that was easily ridden, but Sparrow calmed him with a touch, thankful, not for the first time, for the charms that Heron had taught her.

No longer the time for hiding, her reinforced breastplate was polished orichalcum, as was her daiklaive. She wished for the moonsilver power armour she had left at her manse, but no horse could have borne such a weight, and the Marukani needed her to be on horseback.

She swung up onto the war horse's back, settling herself in the saddle. She looked about, to the riders around her, Bergen, Chala, Kadra and a few others. She met their gazes and then asked, "Are we ready?"

"As soon as you give the command General," Chala said.

There was nothing else to say, Sparrow decided. She had given her orders to her commanders, they had passed them down. From her side she took her horn, put it to her lips, and blew a signal, one long note that rose and filled the spire, then three shorter notes.

On the walls a set of six siege engines fired their payloads almost straight up. The flaming sphere rose high into the air, then dropped, almost straight down, to explode just outside the second west gate.

Even as the engines fired the second west gate was opening, and Heron led his forces out seconds after the spheres had fallen and smashed the dead forces who had gathered there.

The gate closed behind him.

She wished Heron safety and reached into her amour, bringing forth a brass whistle, covered in old realm tracery. Ivory had sent it to her and she looked at it for a moment before bringing to to her lips and sounding it.

Not the low, carrying notes of the war horn, but instead a strange, high, whistling sound; it rose from the brass in a strange tune that was none of Sparrow's doing. Her horse shifted under her, obviously distressed, and she had no doubt that the other horses and riders were similarly discomforted by the sound.

She took the whistle from her lips, spat, and then tossed the instrument of brass away. Putting the mouth piece of the war horn to her lips seemed to chase the distasteful sense of the whistle away, and the long note she blew dispelled the horses and riders' unease.

More horns sounded as the order to charge was given.

Sparrow flicked Dawn Fog's reins and the horse leapt forward, charging an already opening gate. Behind her the Marukan riders followed.

* * *

Cold Raid cursed when he heard the sound of the first horn. Before his forces had been nearly wiped out by his own weapons, the riders leaving the Spire would have been to his great benefit. Now, with his troops reduced in numbers and currently moving about in small, mobile units, he was even as a greater disadvantage.

But now that the riders were out from behind the safety of their walls, he did not have to worry about the attacks from the war engines on the wall.

At least not as much.

"Sound for regroup," he ordered. "I want all units prepared to meet the enemy."

Signallers passed his orders along with horns and charms as he took up his scythe and moved to join the necromancers.

* * *

Lady Blood smiled as she saw the gates open, caring not for the zombies and ghosts that were destroyed in the fire launched from the walls. She had buried her fear, and put together a new force of ghosts to follow her. Her attempts to take down the Spire's siege engines had been unsuccessful, but now the nature of the battle had changed.

"We will kill them and then pound their ghosts into our armour," she yelled.

The ghosts around her cheered.

Upon her stallion she charged the riders, standing on horseback as the lines met. Her scissors caught a heavy mace between the blades, a gentle pressure on the bows cut the mace in two. Then she stabbed forward, tip of the closed pair of scissors cutting into the riders throat. With a pull on the bows the blades pivoted apart and took the rider's head off.

She gloried in the blood, leaping from her stallion, rolling under the hooves of the enemy horse, and cutting horses' legs from under them before falling on the riders. It was so close, their blood splashing on her, being able to see their eyes.

It was, she thought, using the two points of the opened scissors to end two lives, not yet what she wanted.

* * *

The ground shook under the foot falls of the huge war engine. It lumbered on, surrounded by equally large and slow units. The heavy war machines had fallen far behind Cold Rain when the Abyssal had ordered the forced march.

Slow, but unflagging, the hours they had been moving forward at a constant pace, getting closer to the battle site.

Hung within the chest cavity of the war machine were several men and women, attunement spikes piercing their bodies, drawing out their life energies so the huge device could continue forward.

They were senseless, only the power for the machine, not the mind behind it. They were unaware of the vast weapon shifting, pulled down, and then lifted by something with tremendous strength.

Then it was hurled, crushing several other machines.

Some of the captives died in that collision.

The others were to be dead soon enough. It was a mercy, but not one that was given on purpose.

* * *

Caste mark glowing golden upon his head, plasma tongue repeater in each hand, Heron led the riders to crash through a unit of heavy war ghosts. They fell to his charge, dissolving into rout; easy targets for the riders who followed him.

He did not stay to engage them, passing through their ranks, looking for new targets. Behind him fire from the spire rained down where he had just passed.

* * *

In the Heart Spear Tolsay scanned the ground below through magitech goggles, the darkness not hindering his sight.

Focused on the attack and less on the skies the enemy was not paying him as much attention as they should have. As a result he was able to get a good look at the ground, and had a better idea what the enemy was up to.

Digging their heavy weapons in.

A good plan, as long as it remained unknown.

The series of signal flares he launched would ensure that their attempt at secrecy failed.

* * *

On the ground Cloud Hands watched as signal flares burned in the night sky.

"Come around," she ordered, her voice carrying to all her command. "That raise to the east is our target. Nothing stops us from getting there!"

High value target indeed, she thought as the chariot turned sharply beneath her.

* * *

Her daikalive, blazing like the sunrise in the flare of her anima, crushed one of the hulking dead, an abomination of flesh and soul steel. Dawn Fog trampled over it, steel shod hooves crushing bone.

She spun the horse around, looking for new enemies, but her force had finished off the dead already. It had not been a huge unit, not more than a hundred ghosts, but it was the third such unit they had annihilated. They were moving fast, taking advantage of the confusion Heron's force was causing.

For the moment they had the advantage.

She would use it to the best of her ability.

The riders formed up around her and she led the charge into another unit of the dead.

* * *

Eventually, as Sparrow knew it would, the tides of the battle changed. It was not as if the Marukan were suddenly pushed onto the defensive, they still had numerous advantages, but the dead finally managed to regroup and rally and put up an effective defence. The almost unresisted advance of the riders slowed, and while not stopped, Sparrow knew the true fight had started.

With her horn she sounded a signal, a signal that was passed amongst the other units and back to the forces still in the spire.

Close up ranks, defensive advance.

She lowered the horn, turning Dawn Fog to link up with the rest of her force. The few dead that tried to hinder her were ended with a slash of her daiklaive.

The heavily armed hammer scales took up positions on the leading edge of the wedge, their weapons crashing down on the dead. Sparrow moved along that line, supporting where the enemy was the strongest.

And then she was stopped, a scythe of soulsteel cutting up towards her from a crowd of zombies. Her blade intercepted the deadly, curved blade, steel ringing on steel like a bell.

"Cold Rain," Sparrow said.

The Death Knight seemed surprised for a moment, as she started down at him from horseback, but the confusion in his eyes cleared. "Sparrow Hawk," he said, "I owe you for humiliating me in front of my lord."

"I cut you with a broken sword," she said, and lashed out with her armoured boot, kicking his scythe up, her blade cutting under his guard, scoring a deep cut in his armour and the skin beneath, "think about what I will do to you now."

The Death Knight jumped back, his scythe slashing a defensive pattern in front of him. The skin on his brow darkened and blood ran down his face.

"No Lunar here to protect you this time," he said.

"I don't need the protection this time."

Dawn Fog turned and leapt forward, Sparrow's blade met the scythe, the weight of her strike and the horse forcing Cold Rain to his knees for a moment before he rolled off to the side, the striking blade of his weapon screeching across the armour over her left leg. The blade did not penetrate the orichalcium, but Sparrow felt a chill spread through her leg around where the blade had touched her.

Wary, but not frightened, she continued her advance.

* * *

The tides of battle brought Lady Blood face to face with the Solar who had sent her fleeing in fear. A pretty man on a dark grey horse, his flame weapons, and those of the riders that followed him, burning away large numbers of the dead.

The ranged weapons would be of little use up close, she told herself, as she spurred her horse to quickly move up behind him, swinging her bloodied scissors around so she could snip the rider's head from his shoulders.

The horse shifted to the side, and the rider blocked the scissors with one of his pistols, held so barrel and grip kept the twin blades of the weapons from closing. The other pistol he brought around, sliding it under his raised arm, to point directly into Lady Blood's face.

She leaned back in the saddle, turning her weapon so it would shield her from the blast, the cold steel of the underworld primed to swallow the deadly fire. The fire did not come however, for instead the horse kicked back, its rear hooves hitting the blade, driving her out of the saddle, causing the bows to turn in her hands and her guard to fall.

Horse spun and rider lashed out with one of the golden pistols, the heavy weapon catching her hard across the head, setting her helm ringing. Then came the fire.

She avoided it, spinning back and away, blocking the flames with her scissors. Around her ghosts burned in that fire as her stallion ran off.

"Who in the yozi's hells are you?" she demanded.

The beautiful man smiled as his horse charged forward, right at her, his anima like one more fire burning around him. Lady Blood cursed as she stepped forward to meet his attack.

* * *

A siege engine lay before her, broken and burning, the third such weapon of the dead that she had smashed. Cloud Hands scanned the battle field, easily placing the two Solars from the golden fires that burnt around them, though they were opposed by twisting black auras of the Death Knights. From the flame weapons, burning across the field, she could tell which force Heron commanded.

"Rally on me, we will be moving to support," she said, charms carrying her words to all under her command.

She needed to be close to Heron, to provide aid, as she had sworn, and if he was killed, well, she wanted to see that happen.

* * *

Ivory looked at her work, all around her were woven wires of jade and orichalcum, providing a web in which the hearthstone was set. "That will do it," she said to Yoti.

The sorcerer engineer looked around the hearthstone chamber. "I am still not sure."

"It is all a prayer to the Sun," Ivory said, smiling, "all of it."

"And that matters because?"

Ivory looked at him, wondering if he was joking. "You really don't understand?"

Yoti frowned. "Do not insult me girl."

Ivory sighed, then waved her hand about. "The Mask of Winters is trying to use a manse, dedicated to the Sun, to strike Lookshy. Think about that. Death Lord trying to steal the power of the Sun. Do you think the Unconquered Sun will be pleased that a creature of darkness is trying to use his power?"

"How will he know," the engineer countered.

Ivory indicated the web. "The moment this manse would have exploded, all of its power will feed into the stone, passing through the web. It will be like a almost ten million voices raised in a singular prayer. That will attract the attention of the Unconquered Sun, and if not his attention, someone high up in his organization.

"The Unconquered Sun, or a duly deputized representative, will look down and see this, be angry, rightly so, and will do whatever they need to make this work.

"It would work without all that," Ivory added. "I just want the proper amount of overkill."

Yoti looked between Ivory and the web of wires. "The proper amount?"

"As in far too much, but I think we want to make a point."

"How do you know all this?" Yoti asked. "How can you do this?"

Ivory smiled at him. "All will be made clear soon enough."

She walked to the hatch, looking down at the manse below. "Can your armiger carry me down?"

"Mesha, take her down."

"Yes sir," the construct said, picking up the pleased Ivory.

Mesha slid down the cables, holding her. Ivory looked up and saw Yoti following them down.

Once she was on the central walkway she did a quick inspection of the engineers working at the tasks she had given them to make sure that everything was still working as it should. Satisfied with what she saw Ivory returned to the control organ.

"What exactly is going to happen?" Lightning asked Ivory.

"Here, nothing," Ivory told her as she started working the organ.

"And it Thorns?"

"The wrath of the Sun." Ivory smiled, making several minor repairs to the organ.

"Your wrath I think you mean," Dreaming Blue said.

Ivory turned her nose up with a snort. "I won't dignify that."

"Why am I trusting you again?" Linwei asked.

"Because, I am chosen of the sun, Twilight Caste, and it is my purpose in life to reflect the Sun's engineering brilliance." Her caste mark lit up on her forehead as she made the last repairs the organ needed.

She heard Yoti say, "Anathema."

Ivory only smiled. "All that power has been put on hold, building up. Now it goes."

She swept her hand across the organ.

Her claim that nothing would happen was somewhat exaggerated. There was so much damage, too much for her to repair in the time she had had. Several systems were not up to handling the power flowing through them and exploded. It was an impressive, if that was the word to use, show, as all around them subsystems went up in blazes of essence.

Ivory played the organ as best as she could, in the seconds she had bypassing those areas and, when possible, capturing the force of the explosions and feeding the energy back into the system.

Like a bonfire her anima grew around her, but at the same time an even brighter golden glow shone forth from the hearthstone room, and in the singing of the wires was a prayer, and throughout the room the sorcerer engineers were dropping to their knees, even Yoti, though it appeared as if he tried to fight it.

Only Linewei, Tien Yu, the Celestial Exalted, and the armiger remained standing.

And then it was over.

The room went dark, but for the light of of Ivory's anima.

Ivory fell back to sit on the floor. "Wow. That was hard."

"The city is undamaged," Tien Yu said. "The manse, for the moment, seems quiet. It appears I am in your debt," she said to Dreaming Blue.

"What about my debt," Ivory said, still sitting on the floor.

"You were just doing what you were supposed to," Dreaming Blue said.

"Anathema," Yoti said, trying to struggle to his feet.

"Help him up," Ivory said.

The Armiger grasped him by the upper arm and helped him to his feet.

Ivory stood as well, with a hand up from Lightning. She looked at Yoti. "Ivory, not Anathema. Twilight. Chosen of the Sun. The person who saved your city. I would be angry at you, but I am taking your armiger away from you, so we'll call it even."

"What?" Yoti asked.

"I am sorry," the armiger said.

"Mesha?" he looked at the construct that held him up.

"You recognize my authority over you." Ivory was not asking a question.

"Until the Solar Deliberative countermands it."

"Good," Ivory said with a smile.

"I did not bring you here to steal things," Dreaming Blue said.

"Too late for that now," Ivory said.

"It is time for you to leave," Linwei told them, moving to take up the burden of Yoti from the armiger.

"What is happening here?" Yoti asked Linwei.

Linwei only shook her head, and to Tien Yu she said, "Please get them out of here."

Tien Yu nodded and held her hand out to Dreaming Blue. "As before, do not let go of her kimono."

Ivory smiled as she took hold of Dreaming Blue's clothing, and looked at the armiger who was also grasping the cloth.

Then they were traveling through the city and the manse was left behind.

Ivory hoped that she might yet get the chance to properly fix the manse.


	16. Chapter 15 - The Early Sunrise and What

Chapter 15 - The Early Sunrise and What it Engendered

* * *

Whispers of Death lay on the ground, pain shooting through her body, she breathed heavily through gritted teeth, saliva flecking her lips. Strange tremors ran through the earth below her, and a noise, low, echoed in her body.

How long ago had been? A minute? No more than a minute. She and the Mask of Winters had stood in the command centre of his citadel, attention on reports from Lookshy.

Her lord had expressed some concern over the fact that the blast had not yet occurred. Then she remembered him pausing, something strange in his posture. Something uncertain. And then he had said to her, 'Survive'.

He was gone a moment after the word had echoed from within his mask.

It was all the warning that Whispers of Death received.

She had leapt from the high windows, barely ahead of the blast that had burned her back and destroyed the fortress. And it was just not the concussive force, or the heat, so like the judgmental light of the sun, but the sound, as if prayers rode upon the blast, prayers that tore so terribly at her.

And then there had been the fall, and the eventual impact.

Charms had protected her, allowing her to slow her fall, and lessen how hard she hit.

Bones had broken, and there was internal bleeding, but she would survive.

Slowly, hissing with pain, she turned herself, looking back where she had come from. She had to blink several times to clear her eyes, and even then it was several heartbeats before she could make sense of what she saw.

The soul steel citadel had been torn apart by the blast, where it had not been melted to slag, and the Juggernaut, the Juggernaut still burned from within. This huge behemoth, an undying survivor from the age before men, thrashed upon the ground, causing the tremors she had felt, and it cried in pain, the low sound that vibrated within her. Was this the day the creature was fated to die?

As she watched, from one of the portals into the beast, a huge maggot fell out, its disgusting body burning. It spasmed a few times, before it began to collapse in on itself.

"That is most unfortunate," the voice of her lord came from above her.

She looked up, to see the Mask of Winters standing near her. He reached down and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her to her feet. "You'll live," he said. "For now at least."

She gasped as her weight came down on the broken bones of her lower left leg, but she did not fall. "What happened?" she finally asked.

The Mask of Winters was looking at the ruined form of the Juggernaut, with the terrifying side of his face. "Something I might have done, in a similar situation, when I still lived." He looked at her, his bones shifting and he presented her with the more pleasing side of his mask. "Go to Thorns. Get a full report. Pass the word from the secondary command post. Let my forces know that we will pull back."

She dipped her head, bowing as deep as her woulds would allow. "What will you do my lord?"

"I am going to where Cold Rain and Lady Blood battle. I will put a decisive end to that battle at the very least."

He turned and walked away, each step carrying him farther and farther from where Whispers of Death. She watched for a moment, then set off towards Thorns. She was moving faster than was wise with her wounds, but better that pain than the pain she would be subjected to if she earned her Lord's wrath.

* * *

Had she not been half caste, Clarissa supposed she would have been blinded. The flash of light had been bright enough to set the Juggernaut glowing from within. She had been watching, from the rooftops of Thorns, suspecting that something was going to happen, curious as to the warning she had been given earlier by Lightning. And something had indeed happened; lights were still dancing in front of her eyes.

"Daddy, you certainly have thrown this place into disarray," she said, blinking her eyes. It was time to pull out of Thorns, before Lightning and Ivory did something else, or the forces of the Mask dug deep into the city to search out spies.

Eyes beginning to return to normal, she slipped from the roof, into the alleyways of Thorns.

* * *

After leaving the Dragon Bloods the Faded Maiden had trailed after the riders, hoping that the Solars might yet lead her to Courtesan. The battle that unfolded around the Spire engendered mixed feelings within her. While she was disturbed to see so many dead being destroyed, she could not help but be pleased that her Master's rival was being thwarted, his forces depleted.

As she watched she found herself hoping that she would be sent some message from the Walker in Darkness, given direction on how to hurt the Mask of Winters even more. She was in a perfect position to help.

A flash of light appeared in the corner of her eye, but instead of looking towards it she found herself instinctively turning away. There was something disturbing in that light, something that seemed to twist in her being. Something that hurt.

She supposed that the Mask of Winters had been further inconvenienced, but for some reason she took no pleasure in it.

* * *

Courtesan had been fleeing Thorns, making her way towards the border of Marukan. Things were happening there, and even without the whispers she would have chosen that direction. Where things were happening on a large scale, especially at present, the Exalted were often involved.

Which meant that the girl might be there, or come there, or some hint of her location might be found.

And then there was a flash of light from behind her, and though it was some distance away, it lit the area around her, casting her shadow long, and burning her as if she had spent all day in the sun.

Crying out in pain she dove into a dark hollow, to escape that light.

As she lay in there, breathing deeply, waiting for the pain to fade, she felt a strange sensation that made her stomach roil, and heard strange words in her mind. She noted, that for a time, the whispers had disappeared, giving her a moment of peace.

It would not last, but as she hid within the darkness, the light now gone, she revelled in that silence.

* * *

The zombie made a clumsy attempt to grab at Cloud Hands. It would have been pathetic if there had not been so many other zombies. She flicked out her hand, generating a gust of cutting wind that took both of the zombie's arms off, and blew it back, sending it crashing into a number of the dead behind it.

Her other hand grasped a war ghost that had climbed up onto her chariot. Around the fingers that grasped the ghost electricity sparked, and a moment later a blast of lightning erupted from her hand, blasting a hole through the ghost. More lightning came from her hand, striking down the dead near the chariot, leaving a clear space around her. Her hand was brunt by the powerful discharge, but the pain seemed a far off thing at the moment.

A flash of light off to the south attracted her attention. It was as if, for a moment, that the sun had chosen to raise in the south. With the light came a sense of calm, of energy, and a feeling of righteousness that had been lost to her for some time.

"Not a single of the dead will remain," she said, her voice soft, but reaching all around her.

With her statement and the energizing effect of the light, her chariot force redoubled their efforts.

* * *

There was little that could truly surprise the residents of Yu Shan, for it was a place where the gods lived, and they represented almost the entirety of Creation. As such, they were a cosmopolitan sort who often took things with an aplomb that few mortal residents of creation could match.

However, as the streets of Yu Shan filled with a simple yet strangely elegant prayer to the Unconquered Sun, many were, if only for a moment, stunned. It had been some time since any god in Yu Shan had heard or received such a clear prayer, one that had not been spoken by mortal lips.

Many residents paused in what they were doing, perhaps save for those within the Jade Pleasure Dome (focused on the Games of Divinity as they would be), and considered what it might mean.

In her offices within the Most Perfect Lotus of Heavenly Design Ayesha Ura ceased her work for a moment, listening to the prayer.

"A most interesting entreaty," she said to her assistant, of minor god in service to Mercury, whose form was that of a small cat with a silver coat.

"Indeed," the cat, whose name was Rana Sim, answered.

"Might I ask you a service outside of your normal duties," Ayesha, the leader of the Gold Faction, said to Rana Sim.

"Of course."

"I need a team put together, direct interdiction, a threat on the level of a Fair Folk Incursion. We will need to travel fast, full combat load out."

"We?" the cat asked.

"I will be going as well."

"I see... Is that wise?"

"It is required."

"As you say," Rana Sim said, dipping its head slightly. "I will pass your message on." The cat leapt from the desk, out the window, gone in a flash of silver.

Ayesha sat at her desk for a moment, then took a piece of paper and placed it in front of her. The message she wrote out was simple, though the writing elegant.

'Interfere with me, and I will have you in front of the fellowship as an enemy to Creation.'

She sprinkled sand over it to dry the ink, then folded it over and sealed it.

Tapping a small bell on her desk brought a messenger god to her office.

She held out the folded paper to the god and said, "Take this to Chejop Kejak."

Once the messenger god was gone she sighed softly, then stood and walked to where her daiklaive rested in a stand by the window. She picked it up and left her office with long strides.

* * *

Grace kept her stance wide as she stood on the chariot's deck, swinging her grand goremaul out around her, smashing the dead, knocking them about, crushing bones, clearing them away. It opened up space that the chariot crews could use.

All her anger was being focused on this fight. Every strike of her hammer was made with the name 'Rajan Soo' on her lips as a silent prayer.

And then there was a flash of golden light, energizing her, a balm to her spirit.

She blinked her eyes.

A message from Rajan Soo?

It took a moment for her gaze to fall upon Heron.

He fought, as he had for some time, with the dajalan in the black armour.

Grace recalled how, when she had been a little girl, before she had been chosen by the Dragons, Rajan Soo telling her the story of the terrible demons who had dare to steal the power of the Sun, until the Dragon Bloods had put them down.

She had asked, Rajan Soo, how demons might manage to steal such power, for was not the Sun, the Sun? And as such, to powerful for demons to trick? And Rajan Soo had smiled and told her, 'Perhaps, little Grace, he allowed it as a test to the Dragons and their Chosen, and warning to all other demons that they would fail and fall.'

She had forgotten that, but now, in a flash of light, she remembered. Now it was time to avenge Rajan Soo. That was the message in the flash of light.

She snapped the reigns of her chariot against the backs of the horses, pulling hard on the leather to turn the animals towards Heron, charging up from behind him.

* * *

The flash of light had to be the work of Ivory and Lightning, Heron thought. He could only hope that it meant Lookshy had been saved, and perhaps they had struck back against Thorns and the Death Lord who held it in thrall.

At the same time the light flashed his opponent seemed to be at a disadvantage, to be momentarily distracted. He might have taken advantage of it, injuring her, perhaps finishing her off, but he felt Dragon shift beneath him. A subtle warning.

As Lady Blood stabbed out at him, a somewhat desperate maneuver, he did not counter, but shifted to the side, letting the twin blades pass by him. In the disturbingly reflective surface of the scissors he saw Grace coming up behind him.

That idiot Dragon Blood, he thought. All she had to do was put off her pointless vengeance until the battle was done. Then she might make a challenge for justice, in an honourable manner. Now he had to waste time with her.

He smashed the scissors aside with the butt of a pistol and then leaned forward and cracked Lady Blood across her helm again with the butt of the other, likely setting her head to ringing.

"I'll kill you," she growled, lashing out at him with a series of powerful strikes, the scissors opening and closing with a 'snip, moan, snip, moan, snip, moan' sound as the ghosts within the soul steel cried out.

Heron laid the pistols across his forearms, blocking each attack, knocking the blades wide. He started to laugh.

That apparently infuriated the woman, for she redoubled her efforts.

Dragon laid his ears back.

A slight pressure with his knees and Dragon gracefully side stepped in a manner no horse his size should have been able to.

To the two woman wanting his death, it was like he had just disappeared leaving them facing one another.

White jade grand goremaul and soul steel scissors met in a cloud of sparks. The blades of the scissors screeched down the hammer shaft, unable to cut the material. Grace was unbalanced as she twisted the hammer to knock the scissors away. Lady Blood was pushed from her feet and stumbled as the horses and chariot rolled over her.

Whirling her scissors about she snipped the front legs from the horses, sending them both crashing down to either side of her with screams of pain, causing the chariot to buck wildly as it came to a rapid stop.

Grace slammed forward, her head smashing against the shield railing.

And Heron was there, over her, and leaning down from Dragon's back he placed the barrel against the base of her skull. He pulled the trigger and ended her, just like that. "Idiot," he said to the nearly headless corpse.

"You are amazing," Lady Blood cried out, as she cut herself free from the tangle of horses and tack. "They way you slaughtered her. Played her for a fool and then killed her. You gave her just a moment to realize everything she sought was dust." She stepped back. "Take me as your student. Teach me to kill like that. Please!" Her eyes were wide with adoration.

Heron did not let his surprise show on his face, and he did not let it slow him. He did, for a moment, consider her request. She would be a powerful ally. But it was not his skill she wanted to emulate, but simply that one particular, and far from one that he preferred, way of killing.

"No," he said to her.

"Then I will kill you and your ghost can teach me what I need to know."

She leapt from the body of one of the horses, her scissors leading, the steel moaning as the darkness of her anima grew around her.

It was time to end this battle as well, Heron decided as a sense of calm settled on him and Dragon leapt up forward under Heron's command.

They met in the air, the crossed barrels of Heron's pistols catching the scissors, holding them firm. She pressed against his defence, and he gave her an opening, releasing one of his pistols, sending it into the air, at the same time caressing the trigger.

Like a rocket, the blast of plasma sent it spinning around like a festive pinwheel. Lady Blood, focused as she was on trying to drive her blades past Heron's guard so she might cut his head from his shoulders noticed the splash of Plasma sweeping down at her almost too late. As she attempted to free her scissors to bring them up to snip the flames, she found her blades held fast,

Heron had drawn his beam kalive, and with it he kept the soul steel blades trapped.

The plasma hit Lady Blood, burning across the armour of her helm.

She screamed.

Heron cut down across her scissors with his sword of sunlight, and took her left arm off midway between her wrist and elbow.

Then, he let her go, putting the beam klaive aside and grasping his pistol from the air as Dragon landed and spun in place.

Lady Blood hit the ground hard, bounced, but came up on her feet.

She screamed in anger, not in pain, holding her scissors in her one remaining hand.

Heron brought both pistols to bear on her as his anima flared even brighter, taking its iconic form of a six armed goddess, in each of her hands a pistol.

Around Lady Blood eight rings of silver blue light appeared, each spinning on a different axis.

He pulled the triggers of both his pistols.

A comet of fiery essence sped towards Lady Blood as all eight of the rings smoothly aligned into a single ring. The Lady Blood could only stare as the fire screamed towards her and then the shot hit her, blowing through her armour with enough force to knock her back several paces.

Heron watched as the woman stood there, unsteady. He could see though the hole that had been burnt through her and her armour, front to back.

Then her legs folded under under, and she collapsed face first in the dirt to lie close to the fallen Grace. Above him his anima made the sign of peace with all six of the pistols.

* * *

When Sparrow saw the flash of light she knew that things had changed. The nature of the battle had shifted. She brought her daiklaive down on a distracted Cold Rain. cutting him across the shoulder and forcing him to back off.

Their battle had been on both the personal level and on the larger field of war, each attempting to use their units to destroy the others. Cold Rain had countered her siege engines with Necromancers, and for a time they had been in a stalemate.

Sparrow was certain that had changed.

Lightning and Ivory succeeded.

She took advantage of the space that Cold Rain's retreat had bought her and took from a small pouch at her side another of the things Ivory had given her. A small, brass cylinder from which she fired a single flare that rose into the air and exploded into a shower of green.

"Desperate enough to call fire down on your own position?" Cold Rain came back at her, scythe raised.

Sparrow blocked it, turned the blade, and countered, but the Death Knight slipped away from her attack. "You are boring me Cold Rain."

"I will try to be more interesting."

They traded attacks and counter attacks, Cold Rain earning a shallow cut across his cheek; Sparrow fearing that Dawn Fog was near the end of his endurance. Having her horse die would not be good for morale.

"Why so protective of your zombies?" Sparrow asked, her gaze taking in the battlefield, watching as another factor entered, and not wanting Cold Rain to notice. She turned and slashed at one of the dead, takings its head from its body. "Or is it just one that you seek to protect? The one you call mother maybe? I wonder if I can pick her out?"

She swung at the zombie that Cold Rain had kept close by, but the Death Knight's scythe stopped her attack. "I can make your death very unpleasant Solar, do not tempt me."

Sparrow kicked his scythe high, drove her blade forward. Cold Rain moved back, the tip of her blade a hands-breadth from his throat. "If only my reach was longer," she said.

With a scream he swung his blade at her, a flurry of blows that seemed to come from everywhere that she was hard pressed to stop. She had to give up ground, let him push her back. He was focused on her.

Which was what she wanted.

Now all she had to do was survive her strategy and hope that Ivory knew what she was talking about.

Cold Rain's scythe was raised high, ready to come down, and Sparrow was fairly certain she was going to lose Dawn Fog, when something dropped from the sky, landing close to the Death Knight, knocking him aside, sending him crashing into his own forces.

"Solar, you needed me," said the being that had just sent Cold Rain flying with its huge staff. Above the being flew a huge agatha, the drone of demon wasp's wings masked by the sounds of battle.

"I need you to deal with Cold Rain and his army," she told the demon.

Octavian smiled, not a pleasant sight, and turned to focus his attention on Cold Rain. "So, finally an interesting challenge. I had grown bored of dealing with the dead's reserves and supply lines. Even smashing the war machines, while fun, lacked style."

He towered over Cold Rain, under his feet the ground wept stone tears.

"Enjoy, I have other battles to fight." The demon scared her, but Ivory had said it would serve their cause faithfully. She turned Dawn Fog and rode away.

Behind her she heard Cold Rain shout, "You will not..." and then a grunt of pain and then Octavian's voice saying, "Shut up little girl, you deal with me."

Cold Rain was no longer her problem. She rode to where Chala fought. "I am leaving this battle to you," she told the woman.

The Marukan turned to look at Sparrow, eyes wide with surprise. "Where are you going?"

"There is something coming," Sparrow said. "I am going to intercept it."

Chala said nothing for a few seconds, and then nodded. "I'll do as you say."

"Fall back to the Spire if you feel the need, but if you hold your position as things stand now the dead will come to you and you will destroy them."

Chala nodded once more.

Sparrow reached out and put a gauntleted hand on the other woman's shoulder. "When the sun rises in the morning it will see our victory." She turned Dawn Fog and went in search of Heron. He would have to remain, in case something unexpected happened. She would rather he come with her, but they owed the Marukan a promised victory so she would face the new threat alone.


	17. Chapter 16: To Fight Death and the

Chapter 16 - To Fight Death and the Riddle of Dichotomy

* * *

High atop one of the Spire's towers Redigost watched the battle.

He gave the Solars his grudging respect. They had taken the opening he had given them and had run with it. He had seen them countering the tactics of the dead, strategy matching Necromancy, and leaving far more of their enemy destroyed than their own people dead.

It did not surprise him. The Dawn, as was the nature of the Unconquered Sun's generals, had always been a master strategist.

He growled at the thought.

Redigost had watched the demon, unknown to the Death Knights, rampage through their rear lines. He saw the flash of light. He approved as Heron ended the Death Knight, and he wondered as Sparrow withdrew from the battle, leaving the demon to fight in her stead.

And then he saw her circling the battle, riding hard to the south.

No, he thought, and was flying from the tower as a huge bird.

No, he thought, and hit the ground as a huge wolf, long legged strides closing the distance between them.

"No," he said through a wolf's muzzle as he reached Sparrow and her mount.

The mount shied in fear for a moment before Redigost calmed it. It would not do to have Sparrow killed by a fall from a horse.

Sparrow looked at him, fear and recognition in her eyes, but she did not look away. "Don't tell me what to do," she snarled like some trapped beast.

He growled. "You go to your death!"

"I go to where I am needed."

She was so damn certain, Redigost thought, and he crushed the spark of admiration that that thought ignited.

"Then I will take you there. You'll ride that horse to death. On my back!" He hated himself for making the offer, but he was not going to let her die by any other hand than his.

A tiny, hated part of him thought, 'as expected of my Solar' as she leapt from the back of her stallion to land on him. She might be frightened, but she did not let that slow her. Her felt her hands grip his fur, and when he knew she was securely settled he leapt forward, faster than any horse might manage.

Into battle with Sparrow.

It should not have felt so right.

* * *

Dreaming Blue sat in the passenger area of the air ship. Across from her sat Ivory, beside the girl stood the construct. Lightning was flying the craft, after an argument with the girl about it.

"Why did you take the armiger?" she asked.

"Because we are going to need it," Ivory told her.

"Why?"

Ivory looked at the armiger. "Are your limiters in place?" she asked it.

The construct looked at Ivory and said, in a tone coldly polite, "All limiters in place Twilight Peleps."

"She's mad at me," Ivory said.

"Why?" Dreaming Blue asked, curious.

"I've made her a slave. Disengage jade level limiters. Or maybe cause I r'minded her she was one."

"Disengaged," the construct said, and in front of Dreaming Blue the construct grew, becoming taller and more heavily built as the moonsilver part of its construction shifted and swelled.

"You will disengage all star metal limiters when we enter Thorns' airspace. You will disengage all moonsilver limiters when I order you to attack."

"I understand Twilight Peleps."

For a moment Dreaming Blue thought that Ivory was finished, but the girl took a deep breath and said. "You will disengage your orichalcum limiters when you engage the Mask of Winters; in the following order: Dawn, Twilight, Night, Eclipse, Zenith."

The construct did not reply for several seconds, and then said, "Understood."

Ivory sat back in her seat. She looked uncertain.

"Give me the Orrery," Dreaming Blue said.

Ivory looked up at her and shook her head. "No."

"It's not a toy. You're not a Toddler. Give it to me."

"No," Ivory said.

"Listen to me," she leaned forward, "I have been helping you, so now you are going to give me that watch and I am going to find out what is happening."

She shook her head. "It won't matter anyway. Heron said the Mask of Winters would have hid himself from it."

"What?"

"Cause he put it in play, so someone would go to Metagalpa, and stop that. But he wouldn't want anyone seeing what he was going to do, so he must have hid himself from it. So it's no good to you and I'm keeping it."

"Your Heron, he's quite smart."

"I know," Ivory said, sounding very proud.

"And he is probably right, the Mask of Winters probably had hidden himself from the watch, but both Heron and the Mask of Winters are wrong if they think that he, the Mask, will hide from it now."

Dreaming Blue leaned forward. "We may not have had access to the watch, be we had access to aspects of it, and we did things that the Death Lord could not envision. So give me that watch and I will show you something amazing."

Ivory gently bit at her lower lip, then said, "Only if you promise to give it back."

Dreaming Blue wanted to scream. "I don't have time for this."

"Promise."

"Fine. I promise to give it back to you."

Ivory started at her for several seconds, then cupped her hands, within which appeared the Orrery.

"Remember, you promised."

"Jupiter save me from children," Dreaming Blue said as she took the Orrery from Ivory. For a moment she simply held it in her hands, thinking of how long she had looked for it. Then she opened it.

The Watch's interior swelled out, the parts getting smaller and smaller as a cloud expanded into a night sky above her hand. She saw Ivory starting, surprised. "This is the true form of the Orrery of the Hidden Stars," she said. "I'm sure you never have seen it before."

"I would have gotten it, eventually," Ivory said.

Dreaming Blue realized that trading barbs with a child was probably not the best use of her time, nor was it very mature.

"Now," she said, and leaned close to the workings, "stir in your sleep dreamer, and let your fellows know I request the Loom's power, for only a moment."

"What are you doing?" Ivory asked.

"Super charging the Orrery. The Mask of Winters will not hide from this." Her tone was hard and certain.

The cloud seemed to pulse and shift, and its interior became sharper, clearer. In Yu Shan the Loom of Fate, on which the the destiny of all things in Creation was woven, had its focus turned, for a moment, to the Orrery.

"We only have a short time," Dreaming Blue said, looking at what was revealed. "The Corpse is in accession, but opposed by the house of the Sun and the Moon and the Guardians," she said, examining the Orrery. "Well, that's the present clear enough." She turned the casing, and the image shifted. "The Treasure Trove, the Key and the Sorcerer ascend as the Corpse Descends, and," she paused and shook her head, "everything is in the house of the Moon. How is that even possible?"

"Could it mean the Wyld?" Ivory asked.

Dreaming Blue looked away from the Orrery. "The Wyld? It could, but not so far within Creation. For everything to be in the house of the Moon we'd need to be in the Border Marches."

"I have an idea," Ivory told her.

Dreaming Blue looked back to the Orrery for a moment before returning her attention to Ivory. "What?"

Ivory patted the moonsilver cylinder that they had brought out of Lookshy. "Have you ever heard of Operation Wyld Hand?"

"No," Dreaming Blue said.

"It was an idea, to convert a huge part of Creation into the Wyld, to stress test the defensive measures that had been developed. To simulate an invasion of Creation from without."

Dreaming Blue looked between Ivory and the Cylinder. "You can convert areas in Creation into the Wyld?"

Ivory nodded.

She looked at the Orrery for several seconds. "Ivory, I need you to listen to me. I am going to tell you something very important."

"Give me back my Watch," Ivory said.

Dreaming Blue looked at her. "What?"

"My Watch. You promised. Give it back to me."

"Ivory..."

"Give it back!"

"Fine. Dreamer, sleep deep again," she said as the Orrery collapsed on itself and Dreaming blue snapped it closed. For a moment she looked at the device she held in her hand, then shook her head and held it out towards Ivory. "Here."

Ivory took the Watch, for a moment Dreaming Blue held onto it, then, regretfully, let it slip from her grasp. Ivory looked at it for a moment and then made it disappear.

"Now listen to me," she leaned in close, grasping Ivory's shoulder with her hand, squeezing tighter than really required. "I am going to tell you things, things that will not repeat to anyone else."

* * *

Sparrow clung to Redigost's back, terrified to be so close to him, but not willing to let it rule her. As they had run her anima had faded, but she was still a beacon in the darkness as they sped through the Shadowland of Thorns.

When she spotted the Mask of Winters she knew why she had come. This was the place where the battle would be stopped, where Marukan would be spared.

If she was strong enough.

"Do you have a plan?" Redigost asked, a voice impossibly clear to be coming from a wolf's muzzle.

"I am going to hit him as hard as I can."

"You call that a plan?"

"It stopped you."

Redigost the wolf growled, a deep rumbling that she felt through her hands. She did not have time for her fear of Redigost, however, for a far larger threat loomed ahead of them.

In her hands she repositioned her daiklaive, holding it in an attack position, her gaze focused on the Death Lord.

Mask of Winters paused, seeming to watch the approaching wolf and rider. The bastard was not even lifting his weapon, Sparrow noted.

She shifted on Redigost's back as they closed, and leapt from the broad shoulders, swinging her sword around to bring it down at the jovial side of the Mask of Winter's two faced helm. Redigost kept low to the ground, going for the legs.

The Mask of Winter's huge daiklaive rose up at the last moment, stopping her sword in mid swing. An armoured boot lashed out and kicked Redigost's vast body away as if he were some lap dog.

Sparrow placed her boot against the Mask of Winter's armoured chest and sprung away from him, landing, leaning back to avoid a sweep of his sword. Redigost twisted in the air, his body shifting into an amalgam of yeddim and man, landed, and then his huge legs sent him speeding back at the Death Lord.

Sparrow planted her booted foot in the ground and pushed forward, using the momentum to bring her sword into play even faster, catching the Mask of Winter's frost rimed sword as he tried to bring it down on her. He was strong, trying to drive his sword up was like trying to pull in a sail in a hurricane.

Redigost hit him, huge, horned fists pounding against his armour. The sound of children screaming echoed out from the soul steel of the Death Lord's armour.

With almost careless looking shift of his feet he knocked Sparrow to the ground and then slammed a fist into the Lunar's chest, causing Redigost to stumble back.

"You are doing very well," the Mask of Winters said, the beautiful side of his mask turned towards them. "You can surrender now as a reward."

Redigost snarled and went at the Mask, talons blossoming from his arms as he rammed attacks into the screaming armour of his foe. Around the Lunar silver fire bloomed.

The Death Lord countered, slashing back, his huge sword cutting into the Lunar who seemed unfeeling to the attacks. There was such a hatred in Redigost's stance and actions that it terrified Sparrow, but in spite of that cold fear that coiled in her stomach, she stepped forward and stopped a sword blow that would have fallen on the Lunar.

Redigost used the opening that Sparrow's action gave him to launch a series of attacks that rent the Death Lord's armour and caused him to grunt in pain.

"Enough!" The Mask of Winters bellowed, knocking both Sparrow and Redigost away from himself. He shifted, bones creaking, and apparently turned his head one hundred and eighty degrees around, bringing the terrible side of his mask to bear.

"I made you feel pain Death Lord," Redigost said as the cuts on the Lunar's body healed.

Redigost had hurt the Death Lord, Sparrow thought, with her help.

She remembered what Ivory had told her, a prophecy. 'Your gift is pain', she had said. Those words echoed in her head. It was terrible, but it was a path that gave them a chance at victory.

"Redigost," she said, "take all the hate you have ever felt for me and vent it on him. I will not let him touch you."

"Don't tell me what to do Solar," he growled.

"Do it if you want to win," she snapped angrily.

Redigost turned to look at her, lip twisting in a snarl, then with a scream he charged the Mask of Winters.

Sparrow moved as fast as Redigost, blocking the Death Lord's sword as it swung out, giving Redigost an opening. A kick was stopped by the flat of her blade. A elbow halted by the hilt. Redigost used it all to the greatest advantage, tearing at the Mask of Winters, seeking to hurt him.

Both Solar and Lunar shone as their animas became like vast bonfires. Silver and Gold bled into each other, each becoming brighter for it.

More and more their movements complimented each other and they moved with synchronicity. To Sparrow was as as if even their charms were changing, somehow resonating with one another, becoming stronger for it.

Redigost grabbed the Mask of Winter's arm and forced him to his knees. "You are and enemy of the Sun and the Moon and Creation," he said, spittle flecking his lips.

"And now you can die," Sparrow told him, and drove her Daiklaive through the armour and into the Death Lord's chest.

Assuming it was even possible to kill one such as the Death Lord.

"Enough!" the Mask of Winters yelled, and from his body came a blast of energy that drove both Redigost and Sparrow away from him.

It felt to Sparrow like the time she had fallen from the rigging the ship to hit the deck. Her breath was stolen away, and she felt pain all over her body.

"Do you think you are ready for me?" the Mask said. "You'd need a century more time, directly tutored by the Sun and the Moon to beat me. But at this moment, Champions of Creation, this moment you are not prepared for me, and I am going to teach you that. What I will do to your ghosts will..."

Anything else he was going to say was lost in the screaming sound of engines, Sparrow's own airship flying into the airspace above them. Essence cannons opened up on the Mask of Winters as the pilot directed the ship's turbine wash towards the Death Lord. Loose dirt and dried, sickly grass was thrown towards him.

It was impressive, but not enough Sparrow knew. A single aircraft did not have enough power to threaten the Mask of Winters, and even if she had a fleet of them it was not the best of weapons to use against such a target.

However, she thought, as she saw two figures leaping from the ship, it was a excellent delivery vehicle. She did not recognize one of them, a large, bulky figure seemingly dressed in armour, but she did recognize Lightning. While the large figure dropped into the dirt cloud behind the Mask of Winters, Lightning dropped right onto him. The already tattered and torn sleeves of her jacket were completely blown away by the electricity dancing on her arms and she launched two punches at her target. There was a boom of thunder and the Death Lord was sent flying to land in a crumpled, smoking heap.

Lightning came down in a crouch where the Mask of Winters had just been standing, looked over her shoulder at Sparrow and smiled. "Sorry, I know we're not late, but we let the Sidereal fly and she said we could arrive at a significant point in fate."

Sparrow looked at her. "What?"

"Explain later, he's not down yet."

Where he had landed the Mask of Winter rose, like some puppet being pulled up by its strings, his strange, jerky movements were distressingly disturbing.

Redigost charged him, Sparrow put her questions aside and followed; Lightning was at her side.

Sword blocked, talons tore, and another blast of Lightning's twin lightning ballistae sent the Mask of Winters flying back once more.

Above them the airship let lose with another blast of the essence cannons, kicking up more dirt around the Mask of Winters as it swung around and away, moving off from the fight.

"I think I am beginning to hate you all," the Death Lord said as he rose once more to his feet. "You should be proud."

Lightning shook her bloodied and burnt hands. "He is not going to go down easy."

"You do harbour unrealistic fantasies if you think you can beat me," the Mask of Winters said. walking towards them.

Sparrow, Redigost and Lightning spread out, ready to meet him.

From behind the Mask of Winters came the armoured figure Sparrow had seen dropping from her craft. It was not, she realized, some hulking figure in armour, but some sort of construct. It grabbed the Mask of Winters by an armoured shoulder, lifted him up, and slammed him to the ground. It said, "Dawn Limiter disengaged."

"What is that?" Redigost asked.

"Ivory stole it from Lookshy."

"Lookshy had something like that?" Sparrow asked as the construct lifted the Death Lord and brought him down hard, his back against its raised knee.

"Twilight Limiters disengaged," it said.

"Ivory did something to it. It was not nearly that interesting when she took it."

"Talk later," Redigost said, and charged forward, to take advantage of the opening the construct had given them.

Sparrow decided curiosity could wait as she had a more terrifying issue to focus on. The reinforcements had given them some relief and had allowed them to take the offensive again, but she still had her doubts about their victory.

The Mask of Winters brought his sword down towards the construct, Sparrow parried it with her own blade, but took a gauntlet to the face that sent her stumbling back. Redigost pounded against the Death Lord's armour, putting dents into the metal and cracking it in places, but the hilt of the soul steel grand daiklaive took him in the solar plexus , folding him over. Lightning's sword cut under the raised arm, clashing against the soul steel armour and discharging another blast from her ballistae. For her trouble she took an elbow to the top of her skull and drove her to her knees.

"Releasing Night Limiter," the construct said as it grasped the death lords arms, pinned them, then arched backwards into a bridge that drove the Mask of Winter's head into the ground with a loud crack.

"You are pathetic," the Mask of Winters said, and kicked over onto his feet, pulling the construct with him, reversing the hold and then hurling it to the ground with enough force to crater it. "Release all the limiters you want. Resonate your animas as much as you can. Hit me with those pathetic lightning weapons all you want. You will not defeat me."

"Releasing Eclipse Limiter," the construct said, and then kicked up, catching the Mask of Winters between the legs and launching him into the air. Lightning drove her daiklaive into the ground point first, stepped forward, and caught the airborne Death Lord with two fisted, solid punch that blew bolts of electricity through him. As he hit the ground Sparrow and Redigost were right there, movements perfectly matched as they drove him to the ground.

"Is that the best you have," the Mask of Winters asked as he rose, pushing the Lunar and the Solar away from him. His funerary garb was tattered, burnt and beaten away, and his armour broken in places, but he was not slowing down.

"Releasing Zenith Limiter," the construct said, and as Sparrow watched it grew, a head taller than their foe, board in the shoulder, and from it shone a golden light as bright as the sun.

It reached for the Mask of Winters with its huge hands.

"Enough!" The Mask of Winters said, and he dropped his sword and grabbed one of the construct's arms around its wrist, stopping the huge limb. "I will not be beaten by one of the Deliberative's wind up Policemen." With a grunt of exertion of the Death Lord tore the constructs arm off at the shoulder, then used the limb to beat it down. "You are inadequate," he said, the arm raining blows down on the construct as it fell to its knees. "A unit of you, with a Solar at its lead might have been a threat, but just one? Your time is over construct."

Sparrow started forward, ready to use the distraction, but Lighting grabbed her arm and pulled her to other way.

She looked and saw she was being pulled towards where Ivory and woman who looked familiar stood. She heard Redigost howl as he leapt on the Death Lord. "Redigost," she said.

"He'll be fine," Lightning said, and propelled Sparrow forward, towards Ivory and the woman.

The woman moved to catch her, but tripped on some lose ground, and both she and Sparrow went down in a tangle near Ivory's feet. Up close Sparrow recognized the woman from the tunnels under Lookshy. "What is happening?"

Dreaming Blue looked up at her from where she lay beneath Sparrow. "It is something of a plan," she explained.

And a moment later there was something similar to, but not quite, an explosion.

* * *

Ivory had planted three of the Operation Wyld Hand spheres in Thorns. One she had dropped near the centre of the city, to land atop the Palace of the Autocrat. Another had fallen amongst the twisted and melted remains of the Mask of Winters citadel, still atop the wounded Juggernaut. The third was being held by her construct.

A construct that the Mask of Winters stood over, beating.

With her finger she traced out the sign of opening. On all three spheres an identical sigil appeared as a glowing gold rune.

Simultaneously all three of them released their payloads of primal wyld energy. There was no force to the explosion of energy, but the warping, mutating effect of pure creativity was more damaging than any essence bomb might be. It did not smash things apart, but changed them on a fundamental level. Mortal, ghost, wood and steel, those closest to the detonation did not survive, so changed were they.

Redigost and Lightning were okay, for their moonsilver tattoos gave them protection against such energy.

Her construct, it was difficult to say, but Ivory had accepted the fact that her newest acquisition might not survive the plan.

The Mask of Winters, he was too powerful to be destroyed by such a thing (though Ivory had hopped) but the massive blast of creative, living energy was a bane to him.

Ivory stood within a field of Creation, created by her own charms, proof against the Wyld energies, and that field encompassed both Sparrow and Dreaming Blue.

"I hope you have some fight left in you," Lightning said as she grabbed up Sparrow, "cause we have to finish this off."

Dreaming Blue levered herself from the ground, holding her own sword ready.

"You'll have to explain all this to me when we have time," Sparrow said.

Ivory watched as the three Exalts stepped forward to join Redigost in the fight against the Death Lord. She hoped that Sparrow would not be hurt by the Wyld Energy that now tainted the lands around them. She supposed she did not want Dreaming Blue hurt either. Maybe.

Hu came up beside her, from whatever Shadow he had found, and sat. She reached out and patted the tiger, comforted by his presence, and closed her eyes. On her forehead her caste mark, already glittering, lit up brightly.

* * *

"_Now listen to me. I am going to tell you things, things that you will not repeat to anyone else." Dreaming Blue had said to Ivory, not so long before._

_She had leaned in close, her voice low. "We have agents amongst the Death Lords, and Saturn's chosen have made a study of the Dead. We know more than they think we do, and we have plans for them."_

"_Then why are they still around?" Ivory had asked._

"_Untested plans," Dreaming Blue had said, a scowl on her face. "They are sound in theory, but we have never had a chance to test them."_

"_And you want me to do the testing."_

_The Sidereal had sighed and nodded. "I don't like it, but you are the best opportunity we have."_

_Ivory had thought about that for a moment before she had said, "Tell me this plan."_

"_It is said that all the Death Lords have a weakness, one if known would allow anyone to end them. This may not be true, it might just be a story, but no one knows for sure, not any longer, and some Death Lords believe it."_

"_And you know the Mask of Winter's weakness?"_

"_We know a weakness, details delivered up to us by a spy or a traitor."_

"_Spy or traitor?"_

"_It's difficult to be certain."_

"_And if it is a traitor?" Ivory had asked._

"_It won't matter."_

"_Easy for you to say."_

"_The Mask of Winter's helm, you know of it?"_

"_I've heard one side is terrifying and the other beautiful."_

_Dreaming Blue had nodded. "Consider Thorns. One court in the Palace of the Autocrat, another in his Citadel."_

"_Not any more," Ivory had said. "I am pretty sure the citadel is gone."_

_The Sidereal had stared at Ivory for a few seconds, and then had said, "Do shut up."_

"_I was only saying."_

"_Death Lords do not have names, they give them up to Oblivion, as do their Abyssal servants, but you can still find the name Larquen Quen, which means, we think, the Mask of Winters is actively keeping that name alive. What does that tell you?"_

_Ivory had thought about it and then had said, "He is a being of dualities."_

"_Exactly," Dreaming Blue had said. "Why he has based himself around dualities we do not know, but he has. It is a metaphor that can be made into a weapon. A weakness that can be exploited."_

"_By enforcing a duality on him?"_

"_Yes. Two choices, two opposing choices, two choices that are ultimately the only ones given to a ghost."_

_Ivory had been surprised as she had realized what the Sidereal was telling her. "Oblivion or Lethe," she had said. Forgetting and Rebirth or cessation."_

"_A battle of wills, focused on his own, self created dualities. You will turn that into his weakness. You're a sorceress, this is your battle."_

"_Tell me more," Ivory had said._

* * *

Ivory opened her eyes. the fingers of her right hand tracing out the sign of the Twilight in golden light. Her Caste Mark. The Caste that Larquen Quen had belonged to when he had lived. The Caste Mark of the twisted reflection of the Death Knights of Day Break. Around her the Wyld tainted land heaved in tune to her desires and the ground pushed up in the form of the Twilight caste mark on either side of the battle, one that shone golden and one that was black.

In front of her Redigost cracked the staggering death lord with both his fists, knocking him back, into the slashing swords of Dreaming Blue and Sparrow.

Lifting her left hand Ivory traced out two new signs, one of the name Larquen Quen, the other the Mask of Winters. Again the land around her bowed to her will and the ground rose up to match the symbols she made.

Lightning hit the Mask of Winters, channeling electricity through her sword, blasting it through his armour even has her sword stabbed through one of the rents in the soulsteel. Even as the electrical charge was fading Redigost grabbed hold of the Death Lord's arm and slammed him to the ground.

Ivory traced out more symbols, using everything that Dreaming Blue had told her. She shaped her will into a weapon, pointed at the fine crack that existed in the metaphysical space that was the Mask of Winters, a crack of the Death Lord's own creation. A crack into which she would plunge a new duality.

And while she was doing that her companions fought hard, for as hurt as the Mask of Winters was, he was still so very dangerous. All of them were wounded, cut and bloodied, broken bones in some cases, and yet they still fought.

It was what they did, Ivory thought.

They destroyed the enemies of Creation. The gods might have given mortal shards of their powers so that the Primordials might be overthrown, but afterwards, those that were exalted were left to rule over and protect Creation. They had, she thought, not done a good job of it, all things considered, but now the Solars had returned. Now things were going to change.

Her hands moved in graceful whorls as she traced out the symbols of Oblivion and of Lethe.

Her anima banner blossomed around her; bands of golden light, like scrolls, surrounded her, each band covered in Old Realm writing.

From where he stood, fighting off the Exalts, the Mask of Winters for the first time turned his gaze onto Ivory.

"Oh, well done," he said in a whisper that only Ivory heard.

"Well done!" he bellowed, in a shout that echoed throughout the area about them them, the volume of it like an attack that drove the Exalts around him a step or two back.

He threw his head back, as if to shout with his beautiful face towards the heavens, or his fearful face towards the underworld, but then he was gone, empty armour collapsing to the ground.

Ivory collapsed to her knees, a final piece of duality, she thought.


	18. Chapter 17: The Blessing of the Sun

Chapter 17 - The Blessing of the Sun

* * *

In the Underworld, near the Mourning Fields. the Maiden of the Mirthless Smile had sat astride her skeletal horse, waiting for a signal that would tell her that Lookshy had fallen. She was a Dusk Caste, the Mask of Winters' general, the brutal fist with which he crushed his enemies.

It had become obvious hours before that the city was not about to explode. Her forces, meant to break the cairns around the Mourning Fields and ride down the members of the Seventh Legion, waited for an order she was certain she was not going to give. As great and powerful as her army was, she knew for certain that throwing it against the walls of Lookshy would accomplish nothing.

Then something changed.

She turned on her mount and looked back at the army that awaited her orders.

"Colonel," she called to her second. "Prepare the army, we march back to Thorns, as fast as possible.

The old ghost looked somewhat surprised for a moment, then nodded. "As you say."

* * *

The ghosts were very hungry.

They had eaten infrequently.

And yet they avoided the living meat that shared the small, bone walled chamber with them.

The Lady of Darkness in Bloodstained Robes watched the ghosts of the young and old ladies, once, in life, prostitutes like she had once been. She had been hidden in the Nexus Basement for almost a week now, and was growing bored. Terribly bored. While the Mask of Winters' orders to wait were still fresh in her mind, she could not help but think of going out, perhaps brining someone back to feed the ghosts.

How many had been killed in that room, she wondered idly, the bones of all the victims surrounded her. Surely there would be more ghosts had they all remained.

The Lady was a Midnight Caste, a priestess of the undead gods of the underworld, however her own carnal desires drove her more than reverence of the Neverborn.

She looked to the small orb that sat be her side. It was a chunk of rough adamant wrapped in soul steel wire. The adamant was as cloudy as it had been when it had been given to her. She picked it up and shook it, as if that might cause it to change, but nothing happened.

With a sigh she dropped it. "I hate this place," she said softly.

"I think it cares little for you," someone said.

The ghosts had all backed up against the walls in fear. The Lady leapt up to face the speaker. "You have made..." The rest of what she was to say was lost as her mouth hung open in surprise.

In the chamber with walls of bone stood the Emissary of Nexus. "Your master is gone, and it no longer interests me to allow you to remain," the being told her from behind a featureless, silver mask.

"Gone?" she said.

"As you will be by the time the sun rises, or I will destroy you, utterly." He turned and left.

The Lady fell to her knees and started to laugh.

* * *

The Wink of the Storm's Eye sat at his desk, sharpening one of many soul steel daggers he had laid out before him. He had been certain as the sun set that he would finally be able to soak the streets of Marita in the blood of the useless diplomats and dilettantes that surrounded him and who he dealt with every day.

He served as the Mask of Winters' ambassador, a Day Caste. He had come from a noble family in Thorns, but one that had fallen on hard times.

As the night had worn on he had grown less and less certain, and now, with dawn not far off, he feared that he would have to put his knives away and wait for another day.

Then he paused in his work.

After a moment he began to take the daggers from his desk, slipping them into his clothing. Things had changed. It was time to leave Marita, and he planned on doing a great deal of killing on his way out.

* * *

Cold Rain almost fell, and the moment distraction allowed Octavian to catch him with the huge staff of Malfean iron, lifting him into the air, sending him crashing amongst the blood apes that followed Octavian's commands.

He kicked up to his feet, lashing about with his scythe to drive them back, pushing forward to where a handful of zombies remained. His breathing was laboured; ribs had been broken.

"Something on your mind little girl?" the demon asked, swiping at him with the staff again.

Cold Rain turned it, barely, and shifted close to one of the zombies.

His mind was going in many different directions. The battle, that he was losing, and the punishment that would earn from his lord, which no longer really mattered.

"Why are you calling me a little girl?" Cold Rain demanded, his scythe cutting wide arcs around him, pushing Octavian back and slaughtering blood apes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the demon told him. "I'm rather angry at a chit of a girl. I suppose it is wrong to be thinking of killing her when I am in the process of killing you."

"Children can be cruel," Cold Rain said, shifting his scythe about so he could drive the butt end of the weapon down onto the demon's instep, causing him to howl. "So can I." The weapon spun in his hands, cutting a deep slash across Octavian's chest.

He grabbed the zombie by the arm. "Come along mother, it is time for us to leave."

"Run little girl," he heard Octavian yell from behind him, laughter in the demon's voice.

Cold Rain ignored him, focused instead on cutting his way to freedom.

* * *

Faded Maiden looked to the south, not entirely certain what she felt. The very faint whispers of the Neverborn grew louder, letting her know something had happened. Her attention turned to the far off battle between the riders and the dead, but nothing there seemed to merit the agitation of the dark, dead gods of the Underworld.

Perhaps, she thought, it was a sign, that her target was finally getting close.

Grasping tight a scythe she had retrieved from the battle field she began to search, looking for signs of the Courtesan. Where might the archer hide?

* * *

Screeching voices felt as if they might shatter her skull or her mind. The Nihilistic Courtesan fell to her knees, pressing her hands against her ears, fingernails digging into the skin on the side of her skull, as if that might silence the noise. They were angry, and deep within the anger, frightened.

One of their Death Lords had been destroyed.

"Please," Courtesan begged on her knees, crying, begging, "please, I will kill her, I will kill that child, but please, please..." she cried on and on.

Eventually the noise faded, or perhaps she got used to it.

She fervently hoped she had not grown use to it.

Kneeling she searched through her tattered clothing and found a silk handkerchief of black lace that was only a little bloody. She used it to wipe the snot and the tears from her face, then she stood on unsteady legs, taking deep breaths until the urge to vomit left her.

After picking up her bow she continued on towards the lands of the Horselords. Hunters instinct told her that her target would make her way to a place of strength. A close place thought safe.

* * *

Heron did not have the connection to the Underworld that might have let him know what was happening, however he could see the army of the dead was falling apart. The last Death Knight, the one that Octavian had been battling, was fleeing, as were the more intelligent of the ghosts.

Sparrow and the others must have been successful at something.

Riding fast he circled the battle, flame weapons cutting holes in the enemy ranks. He turned Dragon up one of those holes, emptying his remaining flame pieces to clear the way.

Chala was surrounded by heavily armed riders, directing the battle.

"Signal an orderly withdrawl, collect the wounded and where possible the fallen."

"Yes sir," she said, sounding tired, looking several years older than she had the day before.

Horns sounded, and the riders began to leave the field, rallying at the gates of the Spire. Heron rode the field, taking pressure off of the Marukan in the few places where the dead still put up a fight. Most that remained were mindless zombies, and rage filled angry ghosts, who followed the scent of flesh.

The last of the forces to roll through the gates were Cloud Hands and her chariot team, reduced to about half her original numbers. Heron met her gaze and knew he was not finished the the Dragon Blood.

He looked over the battle field, then turned Dragon into the Spire. The gates closed behind him.

Around him the sound of the siege engines picked up as the crews rained fire and destruction down on the remaining dead.

* * *

She was exhausted.

They were all exhausted.

The big Lunar looked the worst, but Dreaming Blue suspected that would not last long. Lunars were damnably hard to kill.

And Ivory sat in the dirt, leaning up against the tiger.

Dreaming Blue walked over to where the girl sat, knelt down, and said, "You're not done."

Ivory raised her head, blood shot eyes finding Dreaming Blue. "I've nothing left."

"You promised me that you could cleanse this Shadowland, to close it. That was part of this insane plan."

"I'm so tired," she said in a whining tone.

"No, you don't get to be the superior, Twilight bitch one moment and the poor little girl the next." She grabbed Ivory up by her clothing, pulling her close. She ignored the growl of the tiger and Lightning's warning call. "We will never have a better chance. The Death Lord is gone, and his forces are scattered. If we are going to close this place then we do it now or not at all. Get up and close this Shadowland, or give me the Orrery and slink off to some nursery somewhere until you grow up."

Ivory looked angry, or like she was about to cry, but she got to her feet, reaching out and letting Hu support her. "Fine," she said, "but don't blame me."

Then she climbed upon the tiger, who looked as long suffering as a tiger might, and said, "Find me some ghosts."

The tiger set off at a run, Ivory upon his back. Dreaming Blue watched as the tiger fell upon an unfortunate, wyld mutated ghost, savaging it. Then Ivory plunged one of her swords into the ghost which faded away.

Dreaming Blue felt a little strange as she watched the child end the ghost. If Creation was correct, than there should have been no ghosts, just souls following the proper cycle of cleansihg in Leathe and then reincarnation. And now that soul never could.

"We better keep up with her," Lightning said, and she jogged off after Ivory and Hu.

Dreaming Blue followed, mostly moving in a straight line as the tiger ran back and fourth, chasing down ghosts for Ivory. The two lunars began ranging ahead, softening up the ghosts before Ivory reached them.

Sparrow kept up with Dreaming Blue. "This seems terrible," she said after several minutes.

Dreaming Blue wanted to agree, but she had told Ivory to do this.

She lost count of the number of ghosts Ivory fell upon, or perhaps she had just stopped trying to count, had not wanted to know what the final butcher's bill would be. Or maybe it was just that she tripped several times.

The tiger eventually stopped and Ivory slid from his back. Her anima was still iconic, and had not dimmed in the slightest as she had fed on the ghosts. Dreaming Blue looked around, and in the distance could see the huge bulk of the Juggernaut, like a range of hills. Near it the land was burnt and bleached.

"This is the centre of the Shadowland," Ivory told her. "When I start this spell, things are probably going to come. You'll have to keep them away from me."

"I understand," Dreaming Blue told her.

"Can you really close this Shadowland?" Sparrow asked.

"Yes, but it will take time."

"Then you had better start little Twilight," the big Lunar said. "I have little desire to remain here much longer."

"As soon as the sun rises," Ivory said, turning to the east, waiting for the sun. Like a child awaiting a parent.

Dreaming Blue looked her daiklaive over as she waited, the others also preparing for the coming battle. Though Dreaming Blue could hope there would not be a battle. Perhaps they would be left unmolested during the time that Ivory needed to cast the spell.

"It's time," Ivory said.

Dreaming Blue got to her feet and saw sun, a sliver of gold on the horizon.

Ivory placed her hands together and when she drew them apart there was a cats cradle of golden light between them. The area where she stood grew brighter as the sunlight of the dawn pierced the miasma of the Shadowland. The first time the sun had shone its brightness on the lands of Thorns since it had fallen to the Mask of Winters years before.

"Here they come," Sparrow said.

Dreaming Blue took her eyes off of Ivory and saw the fast moving forms of hungry ghosts approaching from the north. She held her sword out in front of her, then laid a prayer strip across the blade. "You'll know Lethe before this day ends."

She spared moments from the battle when she could to look back at Ivory, watched as bright, glowing clouds began to gather in the sky above Ivory. eventually becoming a vast thunderhead.

Ivory cried out, Dreaming Blue turning to look, worried some enemy had snuck past them, but Ivory had her head thrown back and was screaming at the sky.

Bolts of lightning slashed down from the clouds, hitting Ivory, grounding through the girl, into the land, and flowing out from her as a golden wave. When it passed under Dreaming Blue's feet it felt warm, and for a moment she thought of a spring day, under blooming cherry trees.

The lighting continued to strike down into Ivory, who's high wail seemed to be calling it from the sky.

And the ghosts and other dead continued to come, in growing numbers.

"The dead gods of the Underworld seek to stop us," Dreaming Blue said, her sword cutting down some chain shrouded spectre.

"They might succeed," Sparrow called out, pushing back several ghosts with sweeping slashes of her golden sword.

"They will not win," the big Lunar growled, smashing a hungry ghost under his huge hands.

Dreaming Blue was glad of the Lunar's certainty, but more ghosts appeared, many of them dark and terrible things, gibbering madly. They began to push the defenders back towards where Ivory stood.

She cut the head off one of the dead, glad that decapitation seemed effective, and turned to catch the huge bone weapon of some monster from the Labyrinth. It was gigantic; all white skin covered in fanged mouths, each screaming obscenities.

There were flashes of silver and gold animas around her, but she also saw other colours and wondered if she had taken a head wound earlier.

Forced to hold her ground, to keep the giant ghost away from Ivory, she blocked its attacks, the bone club hitting her sword with enough force to numb her arms. I was not meant for this kind of thing, she thought, and slammed her open palm against the club, shattering it,

The giant looked at its broken weapon for a moment and she took advantage of the ghost's confusion to drive her blade into it. It bellowed in pain from a thousand mouths and fell back into other ghosts, clearing the area so she could see what was going on around them.

A ghost stumbled back as a man she did not know, surrounded by a golden fames cut it down, and not far from him a martial artist, the symbol of Mars burning on her forehead, lashed out with kicks and punches.

"Sorry we're late," Ayesha Ura said to her, appearing as if from thin air at her side.

Dreaming Blue started at the leader of the Gold Faction, then looked around, seeing other Sidereals, and Lunars, and Solars (well, one or two) as well as Terrestrials. They were driving the ghostly forces back, opening a larger area around where Ivory stood. A group of Dragon Bloods moved up to stand guard around the child.

"Why are you here?" Dreaming Blue asked.

"Several hours ago a prayer to the Unconquered Sun echoed through Yu Shan, causing quite the stir. It was something of a clue."

Dreaming Blue looked towards Ivory. "Oh," she said.

"They are amazing, aren't they," Ayesha said.

"Spoiled and destructive," Dreaming Blue answered, but her heart was not in it.

"How much longer will she be casting this spell?"

Dreaming Blue watched Ivory for a moment and then said, "Until she is finished."

"Very well, we will hold off the Underworld until she is finished."

"Agreed." Dreaming Blue lifted her blade. "Someone has to do it."

* * *

The dead had been pushed back, in some cases they were fleeing. The strike force of Exalts, all fresh to the battle, had hit them hard and not let up.

The sign of their victory was when the lightning stopped and a girl fell forward. She would have landed on her face, but a Dragon Blood caught her and then passed her small body to Sparrow. Sparrow made sure the girl was still breathing and checked her pulse. It seemed she was just exhausted.

Above them the clouds began to dissipate and the mid morning sun warmed the lands once more returned to Creation. It was no longer a place amicable to the dead.

Sparrow held Ivory and looked at the Terrestrial Exalted who surrounded her, and the other Exalts. She had retired from the battle when the reinforcements had shown up, waiting for this moment. Allies could often turn to enemies once the battle had been won, and she was prepared for that.

"Time to clear out of here," one of the new comers called out. She was a dark skinned woman with curly black hair. Around her was a yellow glow of her anima. "Dreaming Blue, do your allies need an escort?"

The Sidereal who had become another ally who Sparrow did not completely trust shook her head. "No, we will be fine without."

"Very well." She walked up to Sparrow. "My name is Ayesha Ura." She held out an envelope. "If you need aid, burn this."

"And why would you help me?"

"Not everyone fears or hates the Solars. There are some of us who have been waiting for you for a very long time."

Lightning stepped close and took the envelope from Ayesha. "We'll keep it in mind."

The Sidereal nodded, smiled, then turned and walked off. Sometime during that conversation the people who had seemed to come from nowhere had left. Sparrow looked about, a little confused, and when she turned to seek out Ayesha she found her gone as well.

"Any idea how they did that, and how to guard against it?" Sparrow asked.

"Always be aware," Redigost said from where he stood. He looked at Sparrow. "The child will be okay?"

Sparrow nodded.

He turned and walked away, his form flowing into that of a great bird which then took to the air.

"Why was he with you?" Lightning asked her.

"He's not about to let anyone else kill me I guess," Sparrow said. Strangely it did not fill her with as much dread as it had before.

"Sounds like him."

"She's adorable you know," a woman Sparrow did not recognize said, looking at Ivory. She was of average height, with strawberry blonde hair, and green eyes. She looked young, pretty, there were freckles across her nose. She wore lose black pants, a white blouse, and a long jacket.

"Who are you?" Sparrow asked.

"Shaia, what are you doing here?" Dreaming Blue asked.

"I am called Gracious Shaia," the woman said, and bowed to Sparrow, putting fist of one hand in the palm of the other. "Chosen of Serenity. I travelled here with Ayesha Ura, though I did not join in the fighting. My talents serve other purposes. I came mostly to see that the child was okay."

"Why?"

"She is a Child Exalt, and thus of interest to the God of Children, and I have been asked to look in on her." She smiled.

Sparrow who had made sure her hold on Ivory was secure nodded and said, "That is very kind."

Shaia nodded. "I have a message for the child. Tell her she will soon be meeting her mother again. And I have a gift." She took a brightly wrapped package from her jacket and held it out.

Lightning took the package and Sparrow said, "Thank you for the message and the gift, I will ensure Ivory gets them."

Shaia nodded, turned, and walked to where Dreaming Blue stood. She leaned in close and whispered something. Dreaming Blue flushed red. Then she called back to Sparrow and Lightning, "Farewell, I hope to see you all again."

Sparrow shifted Ivory in her arms and started walking back towards where the fight had begun, and where the Razor waited, Lightning and Dreaming Blue on either side of her. The land around them was still tainted by the Wyld, and even now strange grasses and flowers were blooming, but at least it was no longer part of the Underworld.

Lightning paused, looked about, and then said, "You two will be fine?"

Sparrow nodded. "You're going?"

"Something seems..." she shook her head and said nothing more. A moment later a hawk was flapping away from them.

"Pitty she could not have turned into a horse," Dreaming Blue said a moment before she tripped and stumbled.

* * *

Golden lightning had run over Courtesan, hurting, and momentarily silencing the demands of the Neverborn. That had been some time before, and she still felt weak and sick. The whispers in her head had never stopped, but she had been unable to act on them. No longer in a Shadowland, she felt at odds with the world about her.

She put her shoulder against the trunk of a dead tree, letting it support her as she scanned the land in front of her. Far off in the sky she saw something. The light of the morning sun reflected off something metal. something moving fast. An airship. It had to be her target. Too long had she wasted on this chase. Now it was time to put an end to it.

She reached for an arrow. Shooting down an airship would be difficult, but far from impossible. And if the girl did not die in the crash, well, she could pick off the survivors easily enough.

Courtesan nocked an arrow and drew the string back, focusing on the far off target as blood began to run down her face.

She would just wait for them to get a little closer.

The sound of a branch snapping turned her attention to the area behind her. It gave her just enough time to shift her bow up so it was in front of her, turning the scythe away from her throat. The blade cut through her breastplate and deep into her. The pain was greater than she would he expected, dropping her to her knees as her essence was pulled from her body.

"Traitor," Faded Maiden said as she stood over the fallen Nihilistic Courtesan.

"No," Courtesan said weakly. "Whispers..."

The tang of the scythe slammed into the side of her face, breaking her jaw, silencing Courtesan and the Faded Maiden reversed the weapon and drove the butt of it into Courtesan's stomach.

"I am no where near the master of pain that our Lord's torturer is, but," she shifted the butt of the weapon up until it was resting on a rib, then pressed down on it until the bone broke, "I will try my best."

Courtesan screamed, from the pain, for the voices in her head demanding she do something. 'Kill her' they demanded. Did Faded Maiden hear the same voices? Did she assume the Neverborn spoke of Courtesan herself?

"We are not finished yet," the Faded Maiden said, and drove the heel of her boot down on Courtesan's hand, breaking fingers.

Courtesan sobbed and cried, and hoped that when she died that she would find Lethe. All she wanted was peace. Peace from the Whispers and peace from the pain.

The blows that fell on her, meant to cause maximum pain with minimum damage finally stopped.

Courtesan looked up, expecting to see the fall of blow that would kill her.

Instead she saw a look of shock on Faded Maiden's face, and coming from the woman's abdomen were a few feet of blood stained, moonsilver, daiklaive.

Then lightning cracked across the blade, and Faded Maiden was blown from the blade, sent flying over Courtesan.

She could not see what happened, but she thought she heard the sound of pained running.

Above her now stood a tall woman, with dark skin, dark hair, in her bloody and burnt hands a bloody daiklaive. The woman she had fought in the falling battle from the Mask of Winter's citadel. She was not looking at Courtesan, but in the direction that the Faded Maiden had flown. She is going to kill me, Courtesan decided, but hopefully a quick and painless death.

The woman looked down at her. On her forehead was a glowing silver disk. Courtesan tried to speak, to lift a mangled hand in entreaty, but the sword descended on her and darkness fell upon her.


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue 1 - Solars and Lunars

* * *

The small port town of Valley Water had survived on fishing and smuggling for as long as anyone could remember. It's deep water harbour was too small for huge merchant or war ships so it had never grown to be of any great importance among nations or the Guild with all of its far flung, monopolistic, mercantile interests. The Mask of Winters had seemed content to leave it alone and simply allow for it to one day be overtaken by the expanding shadowland of Thorns.

That would never happen now, but the residents of Valley Water lived with other problems.

There had been the Mask of Winters' living forces who had often been in residence in the town. And then recently there had been wyld mutants, driven mad. And then the Anathema had come.

Little surprise most of the residents of Valley Water had fled.

When they returned, if they returned, they would find both the wyld mutants and the remaining forces of Thorns gone. They would also find the town's major entrances warded against Wyld incursion.

Heron had brought the other Exalted there, a place to rest up a little, and where certain agreements would be honoured. A place where things could be concluded.

There was a large tavern and inn called Blue Glass, built of weathered stone, with real glass windows that looked out on the harbour. The proprietor, an old man named Rast, had not fled with the rest of the town's people. He had stubbornly remained, not willing to leave his place of business and home.

Ivory supposed it had paid off for him. She was not sure how much Heron had paid him, but, from the smile on the old man's face as he went about his business, it had obviously been quite a bit.

He came up to the table where Ivory sat and placed two cups of tea down.

On the other side of the table from her sat the imposing Gazan Mnemon.

He was dressed in formal robes, and under those was armour.

Ivory was in a pale yellow dress, a golden hairband-a gift from the god of children she had been told-in her hair.

She took a drink of her tea and then said, "It's as if we've come full circle."

Gazan fixed her with his gaze, and Ivory did not look away. He nodded. "I suppose it is so."

"I can't tell you any more about the prophecy I made," Ivory told him.

"There must be something else you can tell me. A hint of who the traitor might be."

Ivory looked over at Rast behind his bar.

"He won't hear us," Gazan told her.

"That's the thing about my proph'cies, they can be hard to decipher," she pronounced it carefully so it did not get away from her. "Sometimes it is only in the moment that they mean anything."

"Peleps-san, I have dedicated my adult life to protecting the Empress and her Empire. While at this time that empire might hate you, I cannot believe that you do not give value to it, if only for your family. I ask that you help me."

Ivory took another drink of her tea. "I don't s'ppose you can tell me who you are going to assassinate? It might help."

He shook his head.

Ivory put the Watch on the table, her fingers resting lightly on its casing. "It's difficult, cause I hate 'strology, and most of the answers are pointlessly vague. Find another way."

"Pardon me?"

"Find another way to accomplish your goal. Find the hardest way."

"So your best advice to me is to toss aside my plans?"

Ivory nodded.

He leaned forward. "Peleps-san, tell me something useful. Give me another prophecy. I need facts, not vagaries. Tell me something I can use."

Ivory ducked her head, for the first time not meeting his gaze.

"You know something."

"You won't wana to hear it," she said, shamed at how small her voice sounded.

"Child, I will decide what I want to hear."

She did not look up but said, "It's what you trust the most. That is what will fail you."

"What I trust the most?"

"The Empress," Ivory said, her voice taking on a slight squeak.

Gazan shifted so he was leaning on the table, his head directly over her. A deep growl from the side of the table told her that Hu was there, and it made her feel better. "Do not play games with me Anathema," he said.

Ivory steeled herself and looked up at him. "Don't come asking for my help and call me that."

He pulled back, sat heavily on his chair. "Any member of the Immaculate Order would tell me that you are simply a demon trying to break my faith in the Empress and the Dragons."

"Did the Dragons get rid of the the Mask of Winters?" Ivory asked. "Did the Empress cleanse the Shadowland of Thorns?" She supposed that having Hu at her side was making her brave.

Gazan said nothing for a time. She wondered if he was thinking about what she had said, or if he was just trying to control his anger.

"I remember the scared child sent to me, her family trying to curry favour, or perhaps to get me in their debt. I was interested in what she had to say though, I had heard she had a gift of prophecy. And she spoke of a plan that no one must know of and told me it would fail. All that has changed as there is no favour to curry here. Give me something of value."

"Why should I?"

"You have family."

"And you have secrets."

They started at each other for several seconds before Gazan picked up his tea cup and finished the contents in one gulp. "I thank you for your time, and ask that you keep what you know to yourself. Pass me any information you might find out. I can make it worth your while. As long as you do not threaten the Empire, you will find that I am a valuable ally."

Ivory supposed that what was left unsaid that he would make a powerful enemy. "Do you want me to tell you what I learn, or what you wanna to hear?"

Gazan smiled for a moment. "My anger at hearing what I do not like passes faster than my anger at being lied to."

Ivory nodded. "Remember you said that."

He got to his feet and reached for the daiklaive he had placed close at hand. "Tell me child, did you really destroy the Death Lord?"

"With help. I can be a powerful ally too."

"I suppose you could be." He picked up his sword and walked from the tavern.

Hu jumped up onto the chair that Gazan had just occupied, it creaked under the tiger's weight. "Don't meet with him again," Hu told her.

"I'll try not to."

* * *

Close by a cutter rocked in the waves, the sailors working to tie it off to to the old dock. Sea birds wheeled over head, calling out, and below on the dock two women faced each other.

"You're survival impressed me," Lightning said to Clarissa.

"Always high praise when coming from one of Luna's chosen daddy," she said. "When you blew up the Juggernaut I got my people out of there. We were at a safe distance when the Wyld bombs went off. Thank you for the warning."

Lightning nodded and looked at Clarissa. She looked to be well enough. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I need help."

"Of course Daddy. If it is within my power."

"Come this way."

Lightning led her from the docks, up into the town, past the tavern, and to where the town's marshall had his offices. There was a heavy lock on the front door, but Lightning had the keys for it. Within the building it was dark, the shutters closed over the windows, a lamp on a desk casting a faint light in a small circle.

"An interesting place," Clarissa said.

"Out of all the places that were deserted, it was the most secure."

"Oh?"

Lightning picked up the lamp and turned it up, the light growing brighter. She walked to the wooden bars of a cell and held the lantern so the light fell upon the occupant.

The young woman who Lightning had knocked unconscious lay in the cell. Her wounds had been treated, and she was wrapped in bandages and bound in rope and leather, gagged and blindfolded.

"How interesting Daddy. A new hobby?"

"She's a Death Knight. I captured her a few days ago."

"Why didn't you kill her?"

Lightning put a hand on the bars, her other hand still holding the lantern up. She listened to the sound woman's breathing, certain she was still unconscious. "I'm not sure. No, I am sure, but I don't know if I believe it."

Clarissa looked at her curiously.

"I think she's my Solar Mate."

"Are you going to kill her Daddy?"

Lightning laughed bitterly. "If I was going to kill her she would be dead. Killing her would be so easy, but, then her Exaltation will just go to someone else. It doesn't solve the problem."

"Maybe this Exaltation does not work that way," Clarissa suggested.

"Do you really think that."

Clarissa shook her head. "Not really."

"I need help. She's wounded now, and drugged, but she is healing. If I am going to keep her prisoner..."

"Why not ask Ivory and your other companions?"

Lightning lowered her gaze, staring at the floor. "I don't want them to know. Not yet."

"Poor Daddy. I will talk to some people."

"Thank you," she said.

"You can't keep her forever. Exalted do not make good prisoners."

"I know. I just want some time to think."

Clarissa put a hand on her shoulder, then left the building, leaving Lightning alone with the Death Knight.

The bars of the wooden cell creaked slightly as she squeezed them. How she wanted to kill that woman, or flee from her presence. She was just wrong. Wrong in so many ways.

How would this have been had that woman been as she should have been. Would she had felt the strong feelings that Redigost did towards Sparrow, or would she just be meeting a stranger who she felt an odd connection to?

She released her grip on the bars, listened to the woman's breathing, her heartbeat, making certain she was still unconscious, then she turned the lamp down, placed it on the desk, and walked out into the sunlight.

Not far off she saw Clarissa and Hu. Clarissa was talking, her voice too soft for Lightning to hear; unless she went out of her way to eavesdrop, and that seemed rude considering how she had just asked Clarissa for help.

There was something about the way to two stood together, something she could not quite put her finger on.

Hu shifted, turned his head to look at Lightning, then, a moment later, walked away, disappearing around the corner of a building.

Clarissa walked back to where Lightning stood. "He has smelled your guest Daddy. He will kill her if he thinks she threatens little Ivory."

"He spoke to you?" Lightning had never quite believed that the tiger could speak, Ivory's apparent conversations within him aside.

Clarissa smiled and nodded.

Something made sense to Lightning. "You and he, both of you are half caste."

"Very good Daddy," Clarissa said. "But Hu is a golden child, perhaps the last of his time." She smiled.

"Who... " she started, and then frowned. "Ivory?"

Clarissa only smiled.

Lightning leaned back against the wall. "That's too strange."

* * *

Dragon walked easily, foot falls steady as he travelled the path. Heron sat on his back at ease. He had patrolled the perimeter of the town, killed a few Wyld mutants who had probably just been people trying to survive in Thorns only a few days ago. Poor bastards. But they were too insane and too dangerous and neither he nor the others had time to do more.

Ahead of him, near one of the town's entrances, Cloud Hands stood. She looked at him, called in an uncertain voice, "May I speak with you?"

Heron slid off of Dragon's back, took the bridle from horse's head, and let Dragon walk off, towards a small stream running down from the hills.

"What do you want to speak about?" he asked, folding the reins up in his hands. He was fairly certain he knew where the conversation would eventually lead. It was why he had let the abbess follow him when he had left the Marukan Alliance.

"Did you have to kill Grace."

Heron continued folding the reins, then put them into the pocket of his long, buff coat. "Let us be straight here. I did not kill her, but executed her on the battle field. She could have waited and found a more honourable death. But, back to your question, did I have to kill her? Or are you asking if I could have simply incapacitated her? The answer is simple. Yes I had to kill her. She wanted to either kill me or to die, killing me being her ultimate hope. So I had to kill her, because it was the only way it could have ended. Unless I did something of a mind fuck on her and killed her personality. But either way, she's dead."

Grace nodded, a precise dip of her head. "I suppose I should thank you for not killing her personality." Her tone was flat.

"No," Heron said. "We both know that you will thank me for nothing."

Another nod. "And what you told me, about removing the oath I swore, to see you dead, that was a lie."

"It was."

She was silent for several seconds, face pinched in concentration. "I was tried, exhausted, you had made me chase you, and pulled me right into a trap."

Heron would have said that she walked right into the trap, but saw no reason to debate semantics. "Which made you vulnerable."

"Why didn't you kill us?" she demanded. "You had us, you could have simply killed us all. It would have been easier."

"I thought about killing you, but Sparrow needed you."

"And you gave us to her. The remnants of a Wyld Hunt to fight the dead."

"I did."

She shook her head. "All that, and I am still bound by my oath."

"You are."

"So I swear the serve you, to follow you, that is my only option, correct?"

Heron looked at her for several seconds, and then he said, "The woman who swore to see me dead would never make that oath, not now. She might, however, try to stab me when she came close to make it."

"You bastard."

"I notice you did not call me Anathema."

She barred her teeth, in her hands appeared the jade throwing needles he had seen her use before. Her clothing was tossed about by a wind only she was feeling.

Heron remained standing where he was, staring at her. "I would say I am sorry for this, but I am not. I don't think you and those like you have a place in Creation any longer Abbess."

A muscle near her eye twitched, there was a slight tremble in her right hand, a drop of sweat ran down her jaw line. Heron watched it all as he stilled himself. Around them were the hundred of sounds of the town, the ocean, the woods all about them. Around them were a thousand scents, animals and people and plants. Not far away Dragon nibbled on some soft, green growth near the stream. Somewhere close by someone watched, but Heron discounted that presence for the moment.

The winds around Cloud Hands picked up, her clothing was flapping and snapping, like a sail in a strong wind, she shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing.

Heron was nearly still, only the slight expanding of his chest from breathing, the movement of his eyes.

A slight turn of her left ankle was a tell.

The winds, obedient to Cloud Hands, lifted her into the air, fast as a hurricane tossed leaf and she released her needles, hurling them at Heron. It all happened in the space between heartbeats.

In his hands his repeaters appeared, and his left hand lifted, the barrel of the weapon sweeping the needles away from him; the spray of jade metal ripping through the trees around them. With the weapon in his right hand he snapped a shot off from his hip. On his forehead his caste mark blossomed and his weapons were surrounded with bright sunlight.

The winds around Cloud Hands could be expected to turn most ranged attacks that might be launched at her, but the flame from Heron's pistol became a sprite of plasma, six armed and winged. It sped through the hurricane winds around Cloud Hands and tore through her right thigh. then circled around and punched a burning hole through her left shoulder. It flashed across her face, leaving deep burns behind, then with a graceful twist, like a diver, sped down her chest, leaving a trail of burnt clothing and flesh that ended at her abdomen. With a final flick of its wings, before it winked out of existence, it powered down through her right foot.

Cloud Hands had locked her jaw tight against the pain, as if she was trying not to scream. She was falling towards him, flashes of lightning crackling across her right hand.

Moving his feet for the first time Heron shifted, snapped a kick up, caught her hard in the chest before she could lash out with her right hand. Pivoting on his grounded foot, he redirected the woman, breaking her ribs even as he kicked her away. She landed hard on the ground about twenty feet away, bones heard to crack as she hit.

Walking towards her, both pistols firing, he put her down, and when he stood over her he emptied the last two plasma charges in his one pistol into her head.

"I am getting tired of killing these women," he said softly, then turned away from the ruined body and looked into the woods around him. "And what about you?" he called out, his hands hard to see clearly as he reloaded both his weapons. "Are you seeking revenge as well?"

"Sorry, sorry," Cathak Kohishi said, stepping out from the cover. The tall, ruddy skinned man, barring the scars that Hu had given him, smiled. He was holding both hands up, one flesh and one steel. "When I saw Cloud Hands come out, well, I was pretty sure that one of you was going to end up dead. I have to admit I'm curious, why did you even let her accompany you this far?"

Heron looked the young Terrestrial over, the man's easy stance, with a slight hint of concern. He supposed Kohishi was worried he was about to die. "She deserved her chance, to see if her cause was deserving. If her justice was stronger."

"But she really didn't have a chance, did she?"

"Nothing is ever certain," Heron told him. "Now I'll ask a question, what is it you want?"

"I came here planning to offer my service to whoever won."

"Why?"

"Because, I want my name to be remembered, long after I am dead. I don't care if that is as a hero or a monster. I'll serve you faithfully, I'll even swear an oath to you, just as long as I get my chance to be part of the things you are going to accomplish."

Heron shook his head and smiled, and the pistols disappeared from his hands. "You'll cast aside your family, your society, with no certainty of anything, just so you might be remembered?"

"Yes."

"And what about Ivory and Hu? If I even suspect that you might be thinking about revenge..."

"I'm not. The Tiger got the better of me, but I lived. That's the way it is sometime. And the scars give me a more seasoned look."

"Are you ready to go to your death if I ask, or Sparrow tells you?"

"Can you promise me it will always matter?"

Heron thought about that for a moment. "With the life we seem to be leading, I think there is a pretty good chance it will."

Kohishi nodded. "You'll have my faithful service."

"I don't need an oath from you. Go and get some shovels and some axes, I am pretty sure you'll find some in the town."

"Why?"

"We're going to give her a proper burial," he looked back at Cloud Hand's still smoking corpse.

"You're a strange one Heron Jade Eyes," Kohishi said, then turned and jogged towards the town.

Heron walked down to where Dragon was chewing at the grass. He put his hand on the horse's neck. "Things get stranger and stranger."

Dragon lifted his head and 'wuffed' softly into Heron's hair.

Heron smiled and nodded. "Well, neither of us were really suited to dull lives."

* * *

Sparrow had found an old fishing boat tied up by the docks. It was not an airship, but the smell and feel of aged wood and slight rocking were familiar, comforting sensations. She sat upon the bow, maps spread out in front of her.

She missed the war room that she had had in Marukan, for that had truly been an impressive collection of tactical devices. Ivory had suggested she might be able to create a few useful things, but for the moment she had to make do with paper.

The Marukan needed detailed defensive plans, to deal with the Wyld Tainted lands they now bordered, and other threats that might arise. The dead might yet seek vengeance for the loss of a Death Lord and the sound defeat that had been handed to them.

It was a talent she was coming to enjoy, the ability to find the way to victory. And she seemed to be very good at it. Her brush traced out lines on the map, indicating the best possible troop deployments.

When she and Lightning returned to the Ice Tree with Heron and Ivory, they would make real progress on building the grand fleet of the air that Lightning and Sparrow planned. And there were so many military applications for such a fleet. Her mind was already planning a rapid reaction team, one that could aid allies no matter how distant.

And they were going to need allies, that she was sure of.

The Marukan Alliance was just the beginning. Lookshy was a possibility that would have to be carefully nurtured. After that, perhaps all of the scavenger lands. Difficult, but with Heron's help, she was certain she might accomplish it.

Heron.

What had been between the two who had once borne their shards? Had they been lovers? She felt small turn in her belly, a warmth that suffused her for a moment. She had not felt that since before Redigost had raped her. Did it mean she was recovering, or just that Heron had a hold on her?

She shifted about, pushed her hair away from her face, and looked up, At the end of the dock, watching her, was Redigost. There was the familiar fear that blossomed in her chest, but she controlled it. Lightning's mark was still on him, and he could not touch her while it remained. And, he no longer was quite the monster he had been.

Perhaps standing face to face with the Mask of Winters had put that in perspective.

"What do you want Redigost?" she asked from where she sat.

His lip curled in a sneer, and he said, "I hate you."

Sparrow nodded, driving down her fear at his words, his look that made her want to start babbling apologies so he would not hurt her. Instead she answered with, "Thank you for removing those explosives from the Spire."

A look of surprise erased the sneer for a moment, and then he shook his head. "I will be the one that kills you."

It was terrifying to hear him say that, but she only nodded. Her knuckles were white around her brush and she had to ease off the pressure so it would not snap.

"You, you took everything from me. You take everything from me. You've even taken my hate and made it your tool. How can you live with what you are."

Sparrow realized she had hurt him, but she found no comfort in that, for it just made him hate her more. "I will do what it takes to win," she told him, her tone only betraying a slight hint of fear. "As will you. It was probably always like that."

He reached up and put his hand over the mark Lightning had drawn on him. "This does not matter, this no longer protects you. Until the last of Creation's enemies fall, I will not kill you."

She nodded. "I do not hold out much hope for Creation's enemies then."

Redigost laughed, and for a moment it was a true laugh, but bitterness poisoned it almost stillborn. "We understand each other."

Sparrow nodded. "We do."

He turned and his form shifted to a bird, which sprung into the air and flew off.

Sparrow leaned back on the decking and looked up at the sky.

They were each the doom of the other, she realized.

And likely nothing would ever change that.

* * *

Epilogue 2 - The Blood of the Dragons

* * *

Gazan considered what he had learned as Tolsay flew them back to the Blessed Isle. He looked over at the daiklaive propped up on the seat beside him. Considered the armour he wore under his robes.

"I went ready for battle to meet a little girl," he said.

"Nah, you got armour for the girl, the tiger and her friends, ya," Tolsay told him.

Gazan nodded. a twist to his lips suggesting he might be smiling. "I have been thinking about what the girl said. About the failure of my plan."

"Ya?"

"I have been thinking about it, since she made that prophecy. How our target might escape, who might betray us. Who I could not trust, or who might have given us away, even by accident."

"Any luck?"

"None. But perhaps I have misunderstood the prophecy. It may not be that we don't fail to eliminate our target, but that we will not accomplish our ultimate goals."

"Be a way for it to fail, ya."

Gazan reached over and put a hand on the hilt of his daiklaive. "The Empress presented this weapon to me. It was, she told me, first used by Selapho the Scream who defeated the Red Queen of Hell in the time before the Great Contagion. It passed into the Empress' hands afterwards, and she has given it to those who would serve her."

"Old sword ya."

Gazan nodded. "She told me to do what ever was needed to protect her Empire, to use the sword in her name. In the service to her and the Empire, there was nothing I might do that was wrong."

"Nice deal, ya."

"Threats from within, Death Lords, Fair Folk, The Bull of the North." He took his hand from the hilt. "How do we get these people, Solar or Anathema, to help us."

"The Order will destroy you if they even suspect you are thinking along those lines." All trace of accent was gone from Tolsay's voice.

"The Order is full of impotent fools who are so focused on dogma that they can't see the truth. The Empress can deal with me as she sees fit, but for now I will do as I see fit. So, if I need to make use of these Solars, how do I go about it?"

"Trick the girl, probably the easiest. She'll pull Heron along, Heron will pull Sparrow."

Gazan nodded. "If I want to build my plans on something other than fooling a little girl?"

"Focus on Heron. He makes things happen. Seems to be the most together of all of them."

"Then let's see if we can build a relationship with him. Let your contacts know that they are to provide Heron with any help they can. Let's also find out what the Solars want, if we can. Once I know what they want I will know how to make them do what I need."

"Understood."

* * *

"I want this entire manual rewritten based on what we learned. Plan for a full scale drill, complete city evacuation," Linwei told her aide, handing the woman the thick manual. "Put the entire administration staff on it."

"Yes Taimyo."

She sorted through the maps and papers on the table in front of her, removed a complicated looking diagram. She rolled it up and placed it on the manual. "Take this to the Sorcerer Engineers, have them update that."

"Right away Taimyo."

"That's it for now."

The aide dipped her head respectfully before leaving.

Linwei took a moment to stare down at the mess of documentation on her desk, then shuffled it around and pulled a piece out at random. A map of the tunnels under the city, ones that exited out over the cliffs of the north west. That entire area needed to be looked at. The Sorcerer Engineers had proposed making use of those tunnels to channel the explosive force of the Manse, had it exploded. A useful plan, if they could put the infrastructure in place ahead of time.

"Taimyo," a junior officer said, tapping on her door.

"What is it?" she asked, not looking up from the document.

"Taimyo Maheka wishes to speak with you."

Linwei turned away from the table and said, "She is of course welcome. Apologize for making her wait and tell her I will see her immediately."

"Yes Taimyo Karal."

Maheka Lespa was a tall woman, homely. and one of Linwei's closest friends. She knew the woman was not there for a social call, nor was she there to deal with official Legion business.

Lespa put a privacy device on the table; the egg sized, jade object glowed softly.

"The other members of the General Staff and I have been speaking," she said.

"Go on," Linwei answered, thinking there was only a few reasons the other members would exclude her from a meeting.

"We have been talking about Peleps Ivory, and Lightning, and what it means to the Legion and to our beliefs."

That was code for Lespa's own beliefs, but Linwei did not make mention of it. "It is a complicated issue to deal with."

Lespa snorted. "That is an understatement. The changes of recent days make us rethink everything. And these Solars are of more concern than we have thought." She paused, took a deep breath. "It is like you said. Some are considering inviting the Peleps child back, to fix things. To have a fully functioning factory cathedral at our disposal, it would go a great way to securing Lookshy's future."

"And indebting ourselves to a Peleps."

"We like to think we have enough age amongst ourselves to match wits with a little girl."

"She won't be a little girl forever."

Lespa nodded. "It has occurred to me, and others, that if these Solars can close a Shadowland, might they also cleanse lands tainted by the Wyld? We have young commanders worried that we are going to see some Fair Folk lord set up in that zone, but my fear is someone like the Bull of the North is going to cleanse the land and raise an empire overnight. We need help."

"What kind of help?"

"Help equal to this threat, help that owes loyalty to Lookshy. We want you to invite your daughter to return. We cannot openly welcome her, yet, but she will be a respected guest. We need her help."

Linwei was careful not to let her elation show. She only nodded. "I will see if I can get a message to her. And Lespa, thank you. I have no doubt we will both see that Fire Orchid remains the Fire Orchid we knew and watched grow."

Lespa smiled. "Nothing would make me happier for you Linwei."

It was a terribly kind thing for her to say, for it would throw Lespa's religious beliefs into disarray. Linwei could only hope her friend was ready.

* * *

Ivory looked over the wreckage of what had once been a very wonderful construct. She supposed that hoping it could withstand a point blank Wyld blast had been foolish. And sending it to fight the Mask of Winters had not done the poor thing any good. But it had been telling it to release the Solar level limiters that had been the largest mistake. Of course she had had no choice, but the internal damage from overloaded systems would take a long time to fix.

Even if she had the materials to make the repairs, which she did not at the moment.

Of course she did have a Wyld tainted lands not so far off, and she might possibly create what she needed.

A small air elemental flew though the room's window. "Ivory," it said excitedly, "the dragon is coming!"

"What? Now?" Ever since Ivory had heard that her Mother was coming she had put elementals on the look out for the dragon her mother rode. She looked down at herself, knowing she was not dressed for the meeting, but not having time to change. She looked at the Elemental, a small, winged fairy. "Thank you. Your service it fulfilled. You did an excellent job." Then Ivory dashed from the room, down the stairs, boots thumping heavily, and out of the building. She barely heard the elemental's call of 'thank you'.

She stared up at sky the trying to spot the form of that great white beast. It was late in the day, and the sun was low in the sky, making seeking it out difficult. And then she saw it, the beast that flew through the sky and carried her mother.

It circled the town, then dropped lower, coming in by the docks. Ivory ran, almost tripping twice as she sped down the slope, Ahead of her she heard loud creaking and wood snapping and as she came between two buildings she saw the white furred creature, perched across three of the docks, one of which had partially collapsed under its weight.

Her mother, obvious in her formal kimono, her daiklaive with her, stepped down from her mount; with her was another woman.

Ivory walked slowly forward, stopping just shy of the wooden quay. Her mother walked towards her, the other woman a few steps behind her. The woman Ivory did not know was not quite as tall as her mother, she had long, white blonde hair, and fair skin. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and suit jacket, both black, and wore shoes with thin heels. She did not look like a warrior, and Ivory did not suppose an assassin.

She shifted her attention back to her mother who had closed the distance between them. Ivory swallowed, wondering if her mother would attack her again. As she stepped closer she did not shift her sword about but instead reached out and ran fingers through Ivory's hair.

"It is a bad hair cut and a terrible dye job of what was once beautiful red hair. Is this some kind of childish statement?" her mother asked.

It was not what Ivory had expected.

"And you look like you let a fish monger dress you, really Ivory."

"My hair," Ivory said after a moment, "Lightning cut it, so it would not attract attention, in Thorns."

Jade Dolphin looked upon her daughter for several moments before saying, "So you are smart enough to save Lookshy, but not so smart to wrap your hair in a cloth?"

Ivory opened her mouth to counter, but no words would come.

"That was one of the more pleasing things people said to me of you. Beautiful red hair, the Empress' favour, sign that you were certain to Exalt to fire. I suppose I was not so pleased about the Exalt to fire part, but I could have accepted it."

"I'm sorry," Ivory said.

"Sorry for what? Butchering your hair, saving an enemy of the Empire, being, in general, embarrassing to your mother?"

"Mostly the last, not really the second," Ivory said after a few seconds.

"Well," she took her hand from Ivory's hair, "I suppose you do not cause as much distress as your cousin does to your aunt, so I will be thankful for that. And defeating the Mask of Winters, or even playing some part in it, allows a certain benefit; at least I can say even as an Anathema a Peleps still can show some usefulness."

Ivory did not know what to say, though she had never really known how to deal with her mother. She fell back on the familiar, "I'm sorry."

"Yes, we already had that part," her mother said with a sigh. "Walk with me Ivory." She looked back at the woman with her. "Miss Gray, please wait while I talk to my daughter."

"Yes Peleps-dono," Miss Gray said in a pleasant voice with a respectful tone.

Jade Dolphin set off at a quick walk, further into the town, Ivory running to keep up. "Is there any place where I might have a cup of tea?" her mother asked.

"Most of the people fled. There is a tavern."

"Distressing. Well, then we shall sit there," Jade Dolphin said, and indicated a brightly painted table and chairs, sitting on a porch which was part of a small house. Jade Dolphin climbed the small flight of steps and paused to look out over the harbour, then took a seat.

Ivory remained standing until her mother told her to sit.

"Do you remember what I last told you?" Jade Dolphin asked.

"You told me not to sell my life cheaply," Ivory replied, a little embarrassed by her tone, which sounded more petulant than she might like.

Jade Dolphin nodded. "It is the same thing I told your sisters when they Exalted. They were somewhat older than you, perhaps at a better age to handle that piece of advice."

"Really?"

"Yes. Which I hope lets you know that you are not special, nor was I being cruel to you. Well, not any more cruel than I have been to any of my children, perhaps kinder. Children your age should not exalt, it is troublesome." Her mother looked at her for a few seconds. "Are these people you with feeding you enough? It looks like you have not grown at all recently."

Ivory felt her mouth go dry, and found she did not want to talk or think about that, and only said, "I'm eating well."

"I suspect you are not," Jade Dolphin said. "But that will be something to deal with. I sought you out for several reasons. I am not, completely, displeased with you."

"What?"

"I am not at all sure what you have become, but, sacrilegious as it might be to say, I do not believe you are a demon. On the other hand, you have apparently become something of a pain to be around. That poor Miss Hill for example, I am sure you were taught to be more respectful of your caretakers."

"How did you know about that?" Ivory's eyes widened in surprise.

"Ivory my dear child, I am your mother, and my blood flows in your veins. If I choose to take an interest I can find out what I need to know about you. In this case, while the people of Lookshy might say you are a genius engineer, they might also say you are a spoiled child who made life particularly difficult on a woman who was just trying to do her job. And they might say that is shows just what a Peleps is like. I will not have that."

There were so many things that Ivory could have said to that that she did not know where to begin, but on seeing the stormy look on her mother's face she supposed quiet acceptance might be the best manner to deal with it.

It was not fair she thought, she treats me like a child. Of course, that was a ridiculous thought. What else was her mother supposed to treat her as? She would be glad when she got older. That thought made her feel as if she had been punched in the gut.

"Are you listening to me Ivory?"

The question made Ivory look up. "I'm sorry."

"I said that is why I have taken on the service of Darken Gray."

"Darken Gray?" Ivory asked, looking down towards the dock where the woman who had travelled with her mother still stood.

"I have hired her as your governess. The key word in that being govern. I believe she will be able to help you present at least the illusion of civility and decorum."

"I don't need a governess," Ivory said, booted foot kicking the table leg, as if to emphasize her point.

"I am of a different opinion, and behaviour like that makes me think that you need a nurse."

Ivory took a deep breath and said, "I apologize."

"Darken Gray is suited to see to you care. She is a god after all."

"A god?"

"One that sought me out to offer her services, and her references are impeccable. Apparently you are of some import to her direct superiors. Keep that in mind as your behaviour will reflect on her standing as well. She is up to the task and no doubt the people you currently find yourself with will be pleased enough to turn over the day to day minutiae of looking after you to someone else."

It galled Ivory that her mother was right about that.

"Come along. I shall introduce you to her." Jade Dolphin got to her feet.

Ivory followed her mother back to the docks, to where Draken Gray waited.

Why did she need a governess? She was able to take care of herself, with a little help from Hu of course.

"Miss Gray," her mother said from in front of her.

"Peleps-Dono," Darken replied.

"Ivory, I have hired Darken Gray to see to your care," Jade Dolphin said, making it official.

Ivory stepped forward. "I am pleased to meet you Miss Gray," she said, on her best behaviour. "I am Ivory Peleps, daughter of Jade Dolphin. Thank you for taking care of me from this day on." She curtsied, as it was a show of respect her mother had felt was more suitable for children.

"I am pleased to meet you Ivory Peleps," Darken Gray said. Up close Ivory could see that her eyes were a strange brown, almost red. "I am Darken Gray, goddess of Discipline Offered in a Loving Manner in Order to Raise Children. You may not call me the goddess of Discipline, but I will accept Loving Discipline if you must shorten the title. Miss Gray will be sufficient. I am in service to Lady Aisha Hikari Ex, the goddess of children."

Ivory knew that name, Aisha Hikari Ex, as it had been the god that had given her the gift of the hair band.

Her mother put a hand on her shoulder and turned Ivory so she might look at her. "You will listen to Miss Gray as you would listen to me, and I will be receiving reports from her. Do you understand Ivory."

"Yes mama," Ivory said.

"There are three things you will keep in mind. You will not sell your life cheaply, that will be a mantra you live by, as do your sisters and do I. We are Exalted and ordinary deaths are not for us. You will not embarrass your family with boorish behaviour. I do not care if people say you are a monster, as long as they say your a monster who is the epitome of Grace and Etiquette. And finally, if I call on you to help our family, you will, immediately. If you do not I will disown you. Do you understand."

Under the intense gaze of her mother Ivory nodded and said, "Yes mama, I understand."

"Good." Jade Dolphin took her hand from Ivory's shoulder, her finger tips lightly brushing her cheek, in what might have been an accident or a caress.

"Take good care of her Miss Gray." Her mother's tone was commanding, and Darken Gray actually took a step back before saying, "I will Peleps-dono."

Ivory was crying as she watched her mother walk away from her and climb aboard her white furred beast. As it rose into the air Jade Dolphin turned on its head and lifted her hand in farewell.

Ivory watched as the creature sped off, low over the ocean, soon fading in the distance.

"You shouldn't show your mother a teary face," Darken Gray said, crouching in front of Ivory and wiping the tears away with a silk handkerchief. "You are chosen of the Unconquered Sun as well as a daughter of the Peleps family. Blow," she said, putting the handkerchief over Ivory's nose.

Ivory did so.

Darken Grey made the handkerchief disappear as she stood. "How long are we to remain in this town Ivory?"

Ivory sniffed a little and then said, "Heron and Sparrow wanted to leave as soon as possible. They were only waiting for me."

"Well, then they can wait another hour or two. We will get your hair taken care of, I think I can remove this dye. And while this town is deserted I think I can find you some more suitable clothing. We'll leave a few pieces of silver in way of apology and payment." She put her hand on the hairband in Ivory's hair. "I see you are wearing Lady Aisha Hikari Ex's gift, which is well. Otherwise you probably would have been filthy as well, which would have displeased you poor mother. Have you sent a thank you note?"

"A thank you note?"

Darken Gray shook her head. "We have a lot of work ahead of us Twilight Ivory Peleps."

* * *

The trim schooner crossed the waves, a strong wind filling its complicated sails, speeding it towards the Blessed Isle. Anzar Ragara stood upon the forecastle deck, a bottle sweet rum in his hand. A spray of salt water hit him, soaking his face and hair and the heavy oil skin coat he wore. He lifted the bottle to his lips and finished it off, then tossed it over the side. From his coat pocket he brought forth another bottle.

His eyes were clear, but there were several days growth of beard on his face, and his hair was a mess.

"Drinking alone, always a bad sign," the ship's captain said from behind him.

He had fled Marukan, no other word for it, he had fled, the words of the Anathema Heron in his head. He had run for the coast, and found the first ship that would take him back to the Realm.

"I'm not drunk," he said, his voice clear.

"But you are working on getting there. If you want some help, I have some bottles in my cabin that will help you get there faster."

Anzar turned to face the captain, a tall, solidly built old man, with long gray hair. He was about to tell the captain to leave him be, but there was something in that man's smile that made him change his mind. "Thank you," he said.

Not long afterwards they sat in the small, but comfortable cabin, Anzar's coat hanging on the wall, his daiklaive leaning close at hand. The captain had not seemed concerned about the armour that Anzar wore, other than to say, 'must be hell if you were to go over board.'

That had made Anzar laugh.

The amber liquor poured into the glass tasted of burnt oak, and went down smooth, but a warmth blossomed in his stomach, and he felt his cheeks warm.

"Good?"

Anzar nodded. "Very."

The captain drank his and smiled. "So, what sorry story has led you to seek the bottle?"

Anzar finished the contents of his glass, and let the captain refill it.

"I was in love with a woman," Anzar said.

"Say no more. That is an old story," the captain said, good naturedly.

"No," Anzar shook his head and took another drink. "It is not a simple broken heart, but betrayal."

"Betrayal?"

"Maybe. There was this little girl, an Anathema. It started with her, and a watch." He gulped the contents of his glass.

"Perhaps you have had too much," the captain said, reaching for the bottle.

"No," Anzar said grabbing the bottle and refilling his glass. "I chased them, the girl, watch and gambler, because it was what she wanted. But I saw Dreaming Blue, with a woman carrying the girl... The girl was helpless, but she did nothing. She did nothing."

The captain only nodded, then took a drink from his glass.

"And the gambler and the girl, both want me dead, and Dreaming Blue, what will she do for me?"

"Why do they want you dead?"

"I killed a woman, hurt some people, it was for their own good."

The captain laughed. "A well used justification my friend."

"I don't think we're friends," Anzar said. He raised his glass and drank again.

Sobering the captain nodded. "We're not."

Anzar took a closer look at the man. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Captain Wolf, and I will put you safely on the shores of the Blessed Isle, but before that, I want to learn everything you know about the ending of the Mask of Winters and closing the Shadowland of Thorns." He picked up the bottle and refilled Anzar's glass.

* * *

Epilogue 3 - Abyssals

* * *

Faded Maiden lay with her back against a rock, somewhere in the hills of the Marukan Alliance. She had her left hand pressed up against the wound in her chest, slowing the bleeding. It had been days since she had been attacked by that Lunar monster, and still the wound had not healed. And it hurt.

She was not worried about it killing her, but she was weak. Even a small squad of riders might destroy her if they were to find her in such a condition. There was no Shadowland close by that she might hide and rest in, the vast one that had been close before was now sealed and that land useless to her. Instead she had made her way further into the land of the Marukan, hoping to find a small, forgotten area, touched by death.

High above the sun shone down on her, even through the thick canopy of the trees, as if in joy for the recent victory of its agents, and to mock her. When darkness fell she would again make her laboriously difficult trek father into the hills, hoping that she did not leave a trail that might be followed.

Not far away she heard a crack of wood, and she was on her feet, feeling fresh blood from the wound. In her right hand was a long dagger of polished steel, the only weapon she had left. Back to the tree, she waited. Whoever was approaching was not going to any lengths to be quiet. She took some comfort in that it did not sound like horses approaching her. Perhaps a lone woodsman. Perhaps fresh blood to restore her essence.

Neither horse nor woodman, but instead Truth. The other Abyssal nodded politely to her, as if they met on some street. "I am pleased to find you."

Faded Maiden nodded, not hiding her surprise. "As I am to be found."

He approached her, gaze drifting to the knife she held.

She sheathed it.

Stepping close he offered her his arm for support, and she took it.

He said nothing as he led her along game trails and the occasional footpath. The daylight was punishing to her, but Truth seemed unconcerned by it. She wanted to ask why he was there, and how he had found her, but was not willing to break the silence he seemed pleased with.

Her legs were beginning to feel leaden when they came into a clearing, near a road. A large wagon waited them, as did several men and women with pale skin and black hair, dressed in dull, grey clothing. One of them, a tall man, came and Truth handed her over to him.

"We will leave as soon as we are ready," Truth said.

"Yes Sir Truth," the man said, and, "Please come this way Lady."

He led her a little distance from the wagon, to a small bower hidden in a copse of trees. Within was a tied, gagged and blindfolded young man.

Faded Maiden did not need to be told what to do. She fell upon the bound man, canines extending into long fangs, and she sank them into the soft skin of his throat, swallowing the blood that flowed into her mouth, the warmth and essence of his life, feeling it strengthen her. She drank and drank until she felt his heartbeat stop and his essence was gone.

The pale man helped her up, led her back to the wagon. He and the others helped her undress, removing soiled clothing from her. They helped her clean up, and the bound her wounds, and then lay her down in the back of the wagon, drawing a thin tarp over her as shade from the sun.

The wagon set off soon after, traveling fast. Faded Maiden rested as a day and then a second passed. She was aware they stopped at check points, but those that manned them fell under the sway of Truth's words, and let them by without even inquiring as to the wagon's contents.

The sun had set on the second day when they entered a shadowland and passed into the lands of the dead. Faded Maiden felt better for it, though the underworld seemed strangely tense to her, uncertain... Afraid?

The wagon travelled for a few more hours, before pulling up to a looming crypt.

"You are wanted within," Truth told her.

"Thank you," she said, climbing from the wagon. Fresh clothing as been given to her, the funerary garb she so often wore, but no armour or weapons. Her wounds still pained her, but she walked up the stairs of the crypt and through the open doors.

Walker in Darkness awaited her within.

She dropped to her knees, her wounds opening, and she lowered her head to the cold stone. "I am sorry my Master."

"Yes, I am sure you are. However, for the moment all I am interested in is how the Mask of Winters met his end and how the Shadowland at Thorns was closed."

"Yes my Master," she said, her voice trembling for she feared she would not know enough.

It was Courtesan who was once more at fault.

* * *

Epilogue 4 - Machinations in Yu Shan

* * *

Dreaming Blue's office was filled with paperwork, though little of it was actually paper. Reports had to be written, and a number of official apologies. Somehow she had been made the official in charge of the events at Thorns and its environs.

She wrote one apology to Hu Dai Ling, for not informing the god of war about the import of the battle, as if she was supposed to have known. She wrote another apology to a Dragon for allowing the land to become Wyld tainted. "It was a Shadowland, I am sure you weren't going out of your way to manage it," she said softly as she picked a stamp off her desk and affixed her seal.

She looked through several reports that had been delivered, reports on Heron and the others. They were on the move again, using that airship of theirs. Tracking them was going to be difficult. Dreaming Blue put it aside and picked up another and read up on the latest occurrences in Lookshy.

It was a mess.

"Lookshy first," she said, picking up the report and spreading it on on her desk. The work absorbed her, so much so she did not see him enter her office, was not aware of him until he cleared his throat. Though to be fair if he wanted to go unnoticed it would not have mattered how engrossed in her work she had been.

"Kejak-sama," she said, standing, knocking papers and things off her desk, in reaching to catch them knocking others aside. She realized she could try to catch them all, and look foolish, or let them go, which she did. Papers and other things slid from her desk, a crystal bauble bouncing across the floor to land next to the toe of Chejop Kejak's sandal. "I am sorry, I was not expecting you. Would you like some tea?" She was reaching for a small bell when Kejak lifted a hand.

"No, no need Dreaming Blue. May I sit?"

"Of course, please." She indicated the chair in front of her desk and then reached over to knock a scroll from it.

The master of the Bronze Faction took a seat. She waited until he was settled before sitting herself.

"What do you know about Project Wyldhand?" he asked her.

She did not let surprise slow her answer. "It converted a portion of Creation to Wyld tainted lands in order to test various weapons and strategies in case of an attack."

Chejop nodded. "Correct. It also killed 40 million of Creation's inhabitants and some believed it nearly snapped the Loom of Fate."

"Oh." Dreaming Blue said as she contemplated the number.

"Fortunately, as such things are measured, likely only tens of thousands lost their lives in Thorns; and while the loom was very active, the Shadowland's nature, of being outside fate, minimized the effects, this time. I also suppose that the young Peleps did not use many of the devices?"

"Three."

"Just three? I thought she would have had to use... Well, no matter. I suppose I should be thankful she showed some restraint. How many does she have left?"

"I did not count. Several."

Chejop nodded. he looked tired, Dreaming Blue thought.

"Several such devices, as Creation is now, planted in the right places, could damage the Loom of Fate. And they are currently in the hands of a child and a Twilight. Either of those separately would of course concern me. Together, it is quite disturbing."

She nodded, suspecting what it might take to concern and disturb a man like Chejop Kejak.

"Unfortunately trying to take these things and seeing them properly secured would not be easy; no doubt she has already sent them Elsewhere, as she did with the Orrery. And moving on her directly is difficult."

"Sir?"

"I have been informed," and his voice rose ever so slightly on 'informed', "that the Lady Aisha Hikari Ex is watching Ivory Peleps closely and has taken an interest in the girl. Apparently she is even petitioning Venus to get protection for the girl, and the Lady is in Venus' favour at the moment."

"It is to be expected that the god of Children would take an interest, but surely Venus will not be convinced."

"Normally I would say that is so, but apparently she herself has become interested in the gambler."

"Oh," Dreaming Blue said.

"For all I know I will be sending my best operatives to watch over this child. However, I am going to see if I might forestall this, or even stop it. I am putting you in charge of these Solars."

"Me sir?"

"You. You will advise them to the best of your ability. You will do what you can to keep Ivory Peleps from using those Wyld devices, unless I request it, and you will try to take both the Orrery and the Wyld devices from her. I would feel better if they were locked up in heaven's vaults."

Dreaming Blue cared little for the the assignment, but knew how pointless it was to argue. She was going to be hard pressed not to harm Ivory if she had to spend more time with the girl.

"There is of course more to this," he told her, leaning forward. "You are to find me evidence that will show these Solars are enemies of Creation. You will give me something that will allow me to move on them, legally. Do you understand?"

There was, Dreaming Blue thought, a hint of menace to those words, and she felt her throat dry. She nodded and said, "It will be as you say."

Chejop leaned back. "Very well. I have no doubt your work will be exemplary."

* * *

Epilogue 5 - Of the Horse Lords

* * *

Markers of of stone or wood, whatever had been easily available, lined the border between the Wyld tainted lands that had been Thorns and the lands of the Marukan Alliance. Bergen had swung down from his horse and walked a small section of that line, looking to either side.

He carried a white jade, grand goremaul, a weapon claimed from the battlefield, pushed on him by Heron Jade Eyes who asked him to use it with honour. Debased as the blood of Hiparkes might have been in his veins, his time with Sparrow and Heron had apparently quickened it, leaving him more than he had been.

The too clever girl had told them to watch, to make sure the Wyld taint did not spread. Ride patrols there daily, let the reality of Creation reclaim the land, she had told them.

And push the Marukan lands farther out, under the auspice of containing the Wyld taint.

Far too clever.

He walked back to where his horse waited, the animal a little nervous at being close the Wyld zone. He comforted it with a few words, then climbed into the saddle, continuing his patrol.

There were other riders, small groups, watching for incursion or spread. So far only a few Wyld Mutants had come from the land, creatures too twisted to be a real threat. He had killed a few himself, and made sure the bodies were burnt.

As his patrol took him closer to the Spire he met up with other riders, everyone coming in off their daily ride. He called out greetings as the horses fell into a lose formation about him. By the time the gates of the Spire were in sight there were a hundred riders with him.

He called out, raising his hands, and the riders stopped. Up close they could see the dead blasted lands around the Spire, the signs of the battle that had been fought there, not so long ago. Some of the pyres of the dead still smouldered, and he could see other riders in the distance, making sure no zombie or other dead beast crawled from those piles.

All the men and women with him had fought down there. They had lost good men and good mounts. And yet, he did not have to look too far off to see the green lands of Marukan. It was as Sparrow had told them. The enemy had thrown their destructive energies in and place where Marukan was strongest to resist them.

"Gan," he called.

"Sir," one of the riders answered, moving his horse closer.

"Take the riders down to the Spire, give your report to Chala."

"Yes sir. She'll ask where you are."

"Tell her I need to ride."

"Yes sir."

Bergen turned his horse towards the fields of Marukan and rode off.

* * *

Epilogue 6 - Ghosts

* * *

Grace Mnemon had died.

By all that was right her soul should have entered the cycle of reincarnation.

But she hated so strongly that she could not pass onto Lethe.

Instead she had found herself in the Underworld, in an area that had become chaotic and dangerous. She did not know what was happening, had happened, she had seen a vast number of the dead moving in the direction she assumed was Thorns. She had felt some force, trying to drive her that way as well, but had resisted.

Then the Underworld had seemed to quake around her and she had seen ghosts coming back.

Both times a number of the dead seemed to think she was a victim.

She had proven to them that was a mistake, but at no small costs to herself.

In the way that the dead were damaged, that they bled, she had been hurt. It left her feeling tired, exhausted. The call of Lethe was impossible to hear over her hatred, but another call had grown stronger.

The call of Oblivion.

"You look tired," someone said.

Grace turned. Standing upon a small raise was a child, a girl, clad in soulsteel, a daiklaive longer than she was tall held easily across her shoulder like another child might hold a fishing pole. A sense of power rolled off of the child, and Grace suspected she was about to be ended.

However no attack came, and the child simply looked down on her, curiously.

"Who are you?" Grace Finally asked.

"I am called the Shoat of the Mire," the girl said. "Who are you?"

"Mnemon Grace."

"That's interesting," the girl said, "how you put your family name first. You're a ghost, I don't think your family would approve."

Grace frowned as the call of Oblivion quieted, replaced by a seething anger. "I know who I am," she replied.

"Oh? Who are you, other than Mnemon Grace?" It was asked with an innocence that was at odds with the arms and armour of soul steel.

Graced found she did not have an answer, not one that would immediately present itself to her.

"Loyal daughter?" the girl suggested. "Obedient soldier of the Empire? Member of a Wyld Hunt?"

"I... I don't know."

"Do you hate Heron Jade Eyes?"

The cry of Oblivion was silenced and Grace stood straight, starting at the girl. "Yes."

"Really, do you hate him enough to forfeit your existence, forever?"

"I was willing to die to try to kill him."

"Did I say die? I didn't say die, did I? Dying is easy. Children can do it." There was a sneer in her tone as on her lips. "I said forfeit your existence. No rebirth."

The question caught her off guard, and for a moment, it lessened her hatred, just enough for her to hear the gentle call of Lethe. Just put aside her hatred, let another finish Heron. Justice would be done.

Rajan Soo would want her to do so.

But Rajan Soo had been kind, and she had been killed by that Anathema.

Hatred sung in her once more.

"I would."

"Really? I'm not offering you special training, that you might one day fight him. Let's face it, he's just going to get stronger and you're just getting more pathetic.

Grace frowned and took a step forward. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Or what?" Shoat of the Mire asked. She actually looked curious.

"Tell me how I might destroy Heron Jade Eyes," she said, knowing there was no 'or what'.

"Not in any manner that you'll like. You will be pounded into Soul Steel, the process is painful, terrible, horrifying really. I can only imagine what it might be like and that terrifies me."

"And then, I'll be able to kill him?"

The girl looked at her curiously. "Only if your hate is pure enough will that desire to destroy him remain. The Soul Steel that you will become will be forged into a weapon, and given to a champion who can kill Heron Jade Eyes where you failed."

It was indeed a horrific fate, but Graced nodded. "I accept that."

The girl looked surprised. "Surely this Heron must be able to anger people greatly; imagine, to find two such as you."

"Two?"

The girl beckoned.

Grace climbed up to where she stood. On the other side of the hill stood another ghost. Her ghostly form was covered in burns, suggesting how she had died.

"Cloud Hands," Grace said.

Cloud Hands looked up from where she stood, starting up at Grace. "I will see him dead," the once Abbess said. "No matter what."

Grace nodded as a connection was formed. "No matter what."

They stared at each other, gazes locked.

"Together," Grace said.

Cloud Hands nodded.

"Are you two going to kiss?" Shoat of the Mire asked, looking curiously between the ghosts. "You look like you want to kiss."

{-|-|-|-|-|-|-BREAK-|-|-|-|-|-}

I apologize to anyone who had been reading this story for the formatting, or lack thereof. I had forgotten that is still in the prior century when it comes to web presentment, and that no matter what I upload, craps out garbage when it comes to formatting. If you have a Deviant Art account, read my stories there, the formatting is beautiful. I will try to go back and put in the breaks into the prior chapters.


	20. Afterwards

To Stand Against the Sun

Afterwards (February 3, 2013)

This story proved fairly difficult to write, at about the middle of it I just could not get a sentence down that I liked. I knew where I wanted to get to, I just did not know how to get there (which is to the say the ending was more or less all there). I eventually just wrote what I did not like, just to get to the end, because that was the only way that the story was going to get done.

Then once I had finally bashed my way through to the end I rewrote, giving the story a critical eye, cutting out pages of junk and fixing everything I had problems with. Once I was finally finished I had a story that I was pleased with. Then I gave it a couple of more edits to fix spelling mistakes and a few continuity errors I had missed.

So I am pleased with this story, I enjoy reading it.

While I only got a handful of reviews, it seems that most of those that took the time to read it enjoyed it too. I want to thank everyone who took the time to write that they enjoyed the story and offered constructive criticism and suggestions, all are appreciated.

Let me see if I can answer some of the questions that people raised in the review.

First of all I was a little surprised to receive requests that I provide more detail about the world. I had not really considered that people were not already aware of Exalted would read this story.

After I got those I gave the following chapters a little work, seeing if I could better explain certain details of the world. So late in the story it was a little difficult. It is the sort of thing I would need to do from the beginning of all three Exalted stories I have written. I may do that, though getting an editor to work on that with me would certainly help.

More likely in the immediate future I will try to better explain world details in future stories. More on that later.

There were some requests to give the Dragon Bloods more exposure and character development. Given that this story is primarily about the Solars at the moment, that is a little difficult, but I hope that by the end of the story you feel that the Terrestrial Exalts did get at least some spotlight.

As for other Exalts showing up (Alchemicals and Infernals) I originally thought the Infernals would be making an appearance but the Alchemicals not so much, but I've been plotting some things out and it is not impossible that we might see them sooner than I first thought.

Timeline wise, this is based on the Second Edition of Exalted. The story is taking place roughly at the standard beginning of the game, 5 years after the Empress disappeared. Untruths of Time begins in Ascending Earth (call it early spring) of the year 768. To Stand Once More in the Sun takes place in the period of Descending Earth, and ending roughly around Ascending Wood (late spring with touches of early summer). Sparrow Hawk and Lighting starts more in the time of Descending Water (late winter) in the same year.

I am trying to stay close to the canon of Second Edition rules (which are pretty much the same as the first) but I do stray from it where the end story will be better for it.

I really enjoy it when people tell me what music they like and that they think goes with the stories. While I do not think that any of this would ever be made into a movie, I often toy with the idea that it might become an fan produced audio drama, and thoughts of what music would be good for such things play in my mind.

For those wondering, the falling battle outside of the Mask of Winter's citadel was inspired by the falling battle in the anime J2 (Jubie-Chan 2). The final battle was inspired in form from battles in my Starblade Battalion story, which probably was inspired by Gundam.

There was a question about why the Dragon Bloods seemed to be religious conservatives, almost to the point of craziness. Well, that is the way of the Immaculate Philosophy. It has done a very good job of spreading a message across Creation that Solars are demons who will destroy the world if not stopped.

Not all Terrestrials believe that to actually be the case, but for those who are actually part of the Immaculate Order, and who take part in Wyld Hunts, or for the average farmer or merchant or artisan, they do believe it. That is how good at propaganda the Sidereals have been.

Of course that was meant to deal with one or two Solars showing up every few years, not hundreds all at once. Under that pressure the Immaculate Philosophy might start eroding.

And if you have read to the end of the story, you can see that some Dragon Bloods are indeed more practical about this.

Eventually as the stories progress, the history of the different characters will be examined and the manner of their Exaltations may be explained. That is all I will say about that.

And finally, If all the Shoat of the Mire ruins is the dramatic moment of some ghosts, we may all consider ourselves lucky... but we are not going to be lucky I feel.

As for the next story, well, I might first write a short story about two Solars, Meep and Mina, which will take place in Chiaroscuro. But the story line from To Stand Once more in the Sun will pick up a month or two after this one ended, with some of the revelations of this story becoming an important part of the next.

And while I thought that the next story would be somewhat limited in its geographic scope (and limited here being very loosely used as it would still take place in an area large that the land mass of the United States) I have realized that I will be ranging farther afield than I thought, beyond the bounds of Creation perhaps.

So expect additional characters, some my creations, others from the games, and the same sort of what has been (hopefully) an epic scale story.

Thank you for reading and I hope you might take the time to comment and what you have read.


	21. Review of future novel

A preview of my third Exalted story featuring Ivory and Heron. It will probably be rewritten, reordered and maybe even parts of it deleted, but this is the flavour of prologue that I am considering.

Also, have created a forum. Let's see how that works:

myforums/S-Hagen/137060/

Exalted Novel 3

Through Out Creation - The Prologue

Upon the Island - Tremors Through the Empire

The conversation was a low susurration, like the gentle flow of water; always there an equally meaningless. To Anzar the water like association offered some peace, but not as much as the opium he smoked from a long, jade pipe, or the rough and burning alcohol he drank.

The proprietor of the 'bar' shuffled softly up to where Anzar sat, straight backed at a small table, and placed a small, resinous ball of opium in a silver dish that was on the table top. Behind him a young woman, pretty enough, but for her bruised eyes, carried another bottle of the clear liquor, 'white lighting' that Anzar had been drinking near constantly.

He nodded and the woman placed the bottle on the table. The proprietor walked away, but the woman remained, standing by the table, in her thin outer robe, tugging slightly at the material to expose more of her full breasts. Anzar shook his head and held out a handful of silver bits to her. She nodded and took them, then left as well.

He turned his pipe in his hands for a time, the smooth silver and jade fittings, each part precisely created and put together. It was a small work of art. The small metal bowl had gone black with use, and he used a thumbnail to scrape some of the burnt resin and smoke stains away.

Around him people came and went, passing through the small door, finding a seat, or more often sprawling on cushions. Some were taken further into the building, where they would not disturb the other patrons as they sought their own escapes into less peaceful madness.

Escape, Anzar thought, as he cut a chunk of opium from the ball with a silver knife. They all were escaping something. Carefully he filled the pipe bowl and then with a pair of scorched iron tweezers found a burning coal in a ceramic bowl that was placed next to the silver dish. With the coal he set the opium to burning.

Time meant little in the dimly illuminated room. It was cut off from the world outside, as much as could be arranged. No one bothered him, asked for anything, just came and placed liquor and drugs in front of him, made subtle offers of other things. As long as he had money they would continue to do so. He smiled as he put the pipe aside for a moment, knowing that they would continue to do so even if he had no money. He was a Dragon Blood after all, and he was in the capital city of Dragon Blood Empire. This was a place where proper respect would be shown.

He worked the cork from the bottle the girl had left and filled up his tall glass to the rim.

Whether he was deserving of that respect or not.

Musing as he was Anzar missed the subtle change in the atmosphere of the establishment, and it was not until he head a soft gasp, so unsubtle in the den, that he pulled himself away from murky thoughts and looked up.

A tall man, his robes not really covering his jade breastplate, his hood pushed back showing a head shorn of hair, and a hard, cruel face. Anzar had seen him before, but even if he had not, he would have recognized the Master of the Pinnacle and the Wyld Hunt; Peleps Deled.

The girl, bravely, probably foolishly, approached, as if the ask the man if he wanted anything, but the words died still on her lips and her knees looked as if they might buckle as Deled fixed her with a stare but for a moment. He continued into the room, unconcerned with the people who shifted out of his way, or left the den entirely, and took a seat across from Anzar.

"Ragara Anzar," Deled, his voice raised with no regard to the quiet that all maintained.

Anzar nodded, and reached for his pipe, but the Master of the hunt was faster, his hand coming down to snap the pipe. "We must speak," Deled said.

Swallowing to moisten a suddenly dry throat Anzar nodded.

Deled looked about and then asked, "Hiding in such a place does not befit one of the Blood of the Dragons. Does fear, humiliation, or perhaps," a sneer coloured his tone, "a broken heart."

Anzar shifted, leaning forward, for a moment a flare of anger burning away good sense. "Don't judge me."

Deled's hand was wrapped in the cloth of Anzar's shirt, faster than he could see, and he was pulled close to the hard face of Deled. People stood, quickly vacating the den. "Answer my question."

Anzar said nothing, and Deled released him. "I've read the reports," he said. "Your hunt was quite the failure. Of course I put much of the blame on Cloud Hands. She should have know better."

Anzar felt that Cloud Hands deserved better, but his earlier anger was damped. "You were not there," he said calmly.

Deled smiled cruelly. "I've dealt with worse. She failed. You failed as well."

Anzar was silent, firming his jaw.

"Tell me about Dreaming Blue."

"What do you want to know about her?" he asked after a moment.

"Who is she?"

Anzar shook his head. "I don't know."

Deled frowned. "I dislike her. She seems to be a cipher."

"She always serve the cause of the Order," Anzar told him.

"Did she?" The cruel smile played at the corner of his mouth.

"She did."

"Perhaps that is true, but only, I believe, because it served her cause. There are others like her," he bit off the words, "making a mockery of the Faith. Do not let your feelings blind you to that fact Ragara Anzar."

"I trust her," Anzar said, though he felt his words ring hollow.

"You are a fool then, but I do not need you to hunt this woman. I want the demon in the form of the Peleps girl."

"It all started with her," he said quietly.

"I will not have anyone speaking of that thing as if she were some kind of saviour." There was venom in his words, and his fingernails carved shallow furrows in the wood of the table as he closed his fist.

Anzar looked at the man and realized that Deled's world was in danger of being knocked askance, as Anzar's world had been by the betrayal of Dreaming Blue. The Shadowland being closed by a Solar, by an Anathema, one who accomplished what the Dragon Bloods could not, such a thing could not stand in Deled's world.

Anzar was careful to say nothing of the sort.

"I do not know where the girl has gone."

"Then we will find her together."

It was on his lips to ask why, but good sense stilled that question. "You will lead a Wyld Hunt against her."

Deled nodded. "And the other Anathema with her, and those who follow, willingly or not."

Anzar picked up the glass of liquor in front of him, before Daled could stop him, but he did not drink from it. Instead he carefully poured it back into the bottle, then put the cork back it. "I will use this to drink a toast over their dead bodies," he said to Deled, lifting the bottle by the neck.

Anzar did not really believe the words, but he spoke well enough that Deled thought he did, for the master of the Wyld Hunt smiled.

Anzar answered the smile with one of his own as he got to his feet. In truth he was terrified, certain he was going to his death.

* * *

With great care Mnemon Gazan wrote several characters onto the map, in red ink. The characters spelled out 'Blossom'. Blossom, was, as far as Tolsay and his agents had been able to figure out, Heron Jade Eyes, disguised as a woman.

He leaned back from his map, looking at it. In black ink Heron's name was written. In blue ink the name 'Verity Jinx', in red 'Blossom' and in green 'Chalim Ofons'.

The names covered a large part of the lands in the south, the Scavenger Lands, and up into the north.

"One man could not have done all this," he said.

Across from him knelt a woman, pretty, a little plump, dressed in a formal, mannish suit. She leaned forward, her short, brown hair falling forward, brown eyes scanning the map. "Chalim Ofons?"

"Young man, bookish, nervous, by all reports, twitches when he plays. Most people think he is lucky."

"Really? I mean, I accept that Heron can disguise himself as Blossom or Verity, he is, by all reports, as beautiful as any woman, but some bookish guy? How can the guild not see through that disguise?"

Gazan tapped his finger one one incidence of the name in green; which appeared twice in Nexus, once in Great Forks, and once in Gem. "I have thought of that myself Lin, but Chalim seems a likely choice, so I leave him on the list. There are three more possibilities, but I am not certain enough to add them." Lin Iselsi was a member of the Left, serving as a Liaison to The Thousand Scales and the All-Seeing Eye. He would not trust her, but for the fact she was completely loyal to the Empress.

Lin looked at the map. "He's gambling quite a bit."

"And not like he usually did. Gentleman Gambler was how most people would describe him, win or lose, always polite, but not now. Now he is taking gambling houses for all he can. He's broken the bank at three Guild casinos."

"The Guild will not be happy. That explain the disguises?"

"They can't ban him if they can't identify him. And he is damnably fast. He outruns news of his actions, and then changes to a new identity and starts the process again."

"How long as he been doing it?"

"Three months."

"That is a great deal of money."

Gazan smiled and nodded. "A great deal, and I don't know what he is doing with it." He looked at her. "Yet."

"I will see if I can follow the money trail."

"Good."

"You know he wants money now, for some grand project no doubt. We could give him quite a bit..."

He shook his head. "He'd never fall for such simple bait, but as you say, he needs money. I have Tolsay looking into it. He is going to find someone unpleasant, possibly with the Guild, to set up a con around, then offer to bring Heron in. It is transparent..."

"Very much so."

Ignoring her Gazan continued. "But he will probably go for it, and it will be a start. And none of our own money spent."

Lin reached forward, spreading out several pages on which were sketches. "One could see Blossom and Heron as sisters."

"Sister and brother."

"No one could ever see two like that standing side by side and assume Heron was male. Unless he was naked." She paused. "I would dearly love to see him naked you know."

"I'm sure you and many others."

"Yes. Now Verity on the other hand looks like a scared little mouse, a librarian, or someones' forgotten daughter. If she came to a casino I owned I would turn her away immediately just because, well, why would a little mouse come to a casino?"

"Casinos exist to part fools from their money and don't do well turning people away."

"Perhaps that is why I am not running a casino. Still don't think Chalim is Heron."

"Time will tell. Find out what he needs the money for, and while you are at it I need to know who in the Upper Echelons of Thousand Scales is still completely loyal to the Empress."

"I will do so." She got to her feet, then knelt down and put her hand on the picture of Verity. "May I have this?"

"Why?"

"I have a servant I want to dress up like this." She smiled.

He waved his hand and said, "Take it."

"Thanks." She took the picture and nearly flounced from the room.

Returning his attention to the map he wished he had Heron Jade Eyes working for him. He could accomplish great things with an agent like that. Though, he thought, picking up the picture of the beautiful man, it seemed more likely that he would end up working for him.

And the dangerous thought was that he might not mind such a thing.

He put the picture aside and got to his feet, walking to his window, looking out over the gardens. "Where are you right now my Empress, and what is it you plan for your Empire?"

* * *

The staff of the Seven Fold Lotus were busy. They were always busy of course, maintaining a manse of Seven Fold Lotus' size was a large job. Opal Peleps had grown up the manse, it and the grounds around it had been the entirety of her world until she had exalted. She knew the ebb and flow of the manse, and knew that the servants were preparing form something.

Nothing too large, she thought, no one too important. She acknowledged the shows of respect from the servants as she passed, but did not let it slow her. Possibly a magistrate was coming to visit, or some minor functionary of the court. She might have asked, but she had heard important things and she must talk to her mother about them.

She was tall, for a woman, an athletic build, mostly concealed her her clothing. She was pretty, long black hair, and tanned skin, and dark blue eyes that seemed to glow at times.

Turning a corner took her out of view of servants and other, lesser household members. With the privacy she started to run, her kimono sleeves flapping as she moved. Quite unseemly, which is why she had waited until she was unobserved. Down the hall, out into an open plaza, not often used for there were no easy exits from it. A cul-de-sac existing for the purpose of essence flow in the Manse, not a structure built for the convenience of its inhabitants.

She quickened her pace, leaping up, her foot touching down on the rim of the central fountain for a moment before she sprang up and forward. The silk of her kimono snapped like a sail as she covered nearly thirty feet in distance to land on a balcony railing twenty feet up from the ground.

Pace unbroken she leapt from balcony railing into room beyond and then into a hall.

Opal had to slow her pace slightly, once more entering the well travelled paths of the manse, but her earlier burst of speed and the shortcut had bought her some time. Probably not enough though.

Up ahead the corridor turned, and would turn again before it would bring her to the staircase she sought, and then she would have to backtrack. She looked about, saw she was alone, for a moment, and ducked into one of the side doors. This brought her into the third level of a vast library, lit by the sun streaming through large windows of adamant panes.

Below her scholars, students and other perused the library and its contents, but few were up in the higher levels, and no one saw her walk along the wooden walkway, open one of the window panes, and leap out.

She dropped quietly into an empty, walled garden, between a pair of ground level windows, unmarked stone at her back. Two young children had been sitting the shade of an apple tree. They stared at her, surprised. Opal regarded them for a moment as she put her clothing to rights. She did not recognize them, likely children of the servants, hiding from work or taking a break.

Placing a finger to her lips, holding them with her gaze for several seconds likely got her point across loud and clear. She turned and walked towards a gate. Pushing it open and stepping out nearly put her at her mother's elbow, but her timing was a little off, and she ended up beside the Majordomo, a pretty young woman who managed a quick smile before shifting to the side so that Opal might approach the woman in the lead.

She stepped forward, waited a moment for the stable master to get his instructions, then addressed her mother. "Might you spare me a moment mother?"

Jade Dolphin turned towards her daughter and smiled. "Of course Opalescence, but for the moment I must deal with other issues."

"Of course mother," Opal said, and then took a step back so others might speak with Jade Dolphin.

They walked along the bricked tiled path, towards the river, her mother assigning tasks to her senior staff, clarifying things when necessary. All the things required to run the manse and the other lands that her mother commanded. Opal was worrying that she might not get a chance to actually speak to her mother when the dock came in sight.

Jade Dolphin paused in her discussion with the master of the kitchens and looked back at Opal. "Get the gondola ready, you will be rowing."

It was on Opal's lips to say, 'Me?', but she had been too well schooled, and instead dipped her head in a bow and said, "Of course mother."

She stepped forward, lengthening her stride, reaching the white gondola, tied off with a number of other small craft, several steps ahead of the rest of the crowd. She cast off the bow mooring, and then took a long oar from a rack. Stepping one foot into the boat she was able to offer her mother her hand to assist her into the craft.

Her mother settled, Opal undid the stern mooring and then used her foot to push the gondola from the dock. Settling onto the end she spun the oar, dropped the end into the water, and with a sweep turned the bow towards the middle of the river. A few strokes took them from the calm pool near the docks, into the current. It gently took the boat and pulled it into it's embrace.

"Satisfactory," her mother said.

Rare praise, Opal thought, moving the gondola out towards the middle of the river. "I remember when you took me out on the river, just after I exalted," Opal said.

"I am glad to hear that. You were supposed to remember it."

Jade Dolphin's tone carried a subtle edge to it, letting Opal know she had made an error in drifting into nostalgia, stating something so obvious.

She was quiet and instead focused on her rowing, lifting the oar from the water, spinning it in an arc above, and then plunging it smoothly into the river on the other side. When her mother had preformed the same maneuver, many years ago, she had brought a spray of water with the oar, that had formed a rainbow above them, beautiful and amazing as not a drop of water had fallen on the boat.

Something expected of a water aspect, but not something that Opal was willing to try.

"The river," Jade Dolphin said, dipping a hand into the cool water, "protects us, as much as anything. You may speak freely while we are upon it."

She did not look back at Opal.

Opal was silent for a moment, and then, "They say that Peleps Deled requested house aid in a Wyld Hunt he is leading. They say that you refused it to him."

"Deled is a fool who is going to his death. Of course I refused him."

Opal swallowed, in spite of her mother's words that they were safe upon the river.

"He is a powerful man, and he hunts," she paused, "an Anathema who likely killed Ivory."

Her mother laughed, and shifted back on her elbows, extending her neck so she was looking back at Opal from an upside down perspective. "He is hunting Ivory, no demon that took her shape."

Lazily she lifted her head so she was once again staring in the direction that river took them.

Opal considered her mother's words for a few seconds. "So you hope that Ivory can be of use to you."

"Very good," Jade Dolphin told her, not looking back.

"What is she?"

"She is your little sister, the same girl that occasionally spoke true prophecy and I sent to Gazan Menmon. She is just more powerful now."

"I don't understand," Opal said.

"There is nothing wrong with that. You lack information. When I took you on on this river I told you many things."

"And you said there was more that you might one day tell me."

"And this is one day," Jade Dolphin told her. "It has been our family's privilege and duty to maintain the essence flows in the Prefecture of Juche. The essence flows in this part of the island are of vital importance to the health of the Blessed Isle, and of the workings of the Sword of Creation.

"There are many materials that our line has needed to perform our duty, materials that have been sanitized so that we might not know the truth. The thing is, however, had they been sanitized too much, they would have been useless. The result is that members of our line have always known too much."

"Too much about what?"

"About true history." Her mother shifted in the gondola, looking towards the banks. "Of course knowledge of true history has always been of little use, for there was nothing that could be done with it. Until they returned in great numbers. And as your sister has become one of them, that knowledge is even more valuable."

"Become one of what?" Opal asked, still rowing, keeping the gondola moving fast and steady.

"A chosen of the Unconquered Sun, a Solar Exalted, and, possibly, a true ruler of Creation. And there is no longer just one or two of them, appearing once every decade or so, as was the pattern in the past, but hundreds. Deled's time is over."

"How do you know that Ivory will do what you want though?"

Jade Dolphin laughed. "Opalescence, why do you think your sister would be able to refuse me? It is not as if you can."

Opal nodded after a moment. "What would you have me do?"

"Watch and wait Opal my dear, and be flexible in your thinking. This is a time of change and those who cling too tightly to the past will be lost."

* * *

In The Lands of the Dead - Plotting of Ghosts

In the Underworld no city was as grand as Stygia, the city that sat at the centre of the land of the Dead, as Mount Meru and its ruined city of Meru was the heart of Creation. Built around the Well of Oblivion it was, in its way, part of the wards that protected the rest of the Underworld from complete destruction, oblivion.

The city was one of ghosts, mostly, but as it had been built in part by mortals, mortals still found safety, of a sort, within.

In the city district called Soul's Lost, the Death Knight Cold Rain and a single zombie had found temporary shelter.

On the upper floor of an elegant, monochrome mansion Cold Rain looked, from a bay window, down on the fine brick roadways and highborn ghosts that walked them. The room that he was in was very nearly empty, but for a few pieces of old furniture, and a large object, covered in silk, pushed up against one of the walls. Cracks lined the walls and ceilings, and mould grew here and there.

He was not bothered by the shabbiness of the room, for it was quite common in Soul's Lost. The elegance and beauty were just facades of the old and crumbling heart of the district. If anything he was amused at the ghosts, desperately trying to hold onto their living lives of opulence with so little to do so with.

He heard a soft rapping at his door, three rapid knocks, a long pause, and then a final one. The thought of ignoring it played on his mind for a few moments, but he finally said, "Enter." and looked to the door.

The door opened and a tall, thin woman, with long red hair and dark skin, entered. She was as mortal as he, and like him was a Death Knight, once in service to the Mask of Winters.

"So why do you come here this time Whispers?" he asked her, turning back to the window and the performance below.

Whispers of the Dead closed the door behind her. "I thought you might like news," she said softly.

Cold Rain had found her when he had entered the Mask's holdings to obtain his Monstance of Celestial Portion. He had helped her obtain hers as well, as she had helped him. He had no idea where she had hidden hers, but his was in the room with him, covered in silk so he did not have to look at it.

As the reliquary of his Black Exaltation, and where the power would flee were his mortal life ended, it was as much a part of him as his arm. It was not something he had wanted anyone else to lay their hands on once the Mask of WInters had been ended.

"News of what?" he asked.

"The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile still holds Thorns of the Underworld."

"Has any other Death Lord made a serious play for it?"

"No," he heard her say after a moment, "though the walker in Darkness has sent some scouting missions. She tells her followers that the Mask of Winters will return."

"I wonder if she really believes that?" Cold Rain asked softly. He did not, was certain the Mask was gone.

She must have known his question was rhetorical for she did not answer, but said, "I have heard that the Lady of Darkness in Bloodstained Robes has sworn service to the Lover."

Cold Rain laughed at that. "Her and her Death Lord's appetites might match, but I would be surprised if she lived out the year. More likely the Lover will end her and find someone more interesting to exalt in her place. And what of the Disciple of the Seven Forbidden Wisdoms?" he asked, suddenly finding a liking for this game.

"I do not know, but, the Physician of the Black Maladies travels to speak with the First and Forsaken lion, though if he does so with the Maiden's knowledge I do not know."

"And Typhon?"

"There have been many deaths in the River provinces. I believe he is working out certain issues."

Cold Rain left the window, walked into the room, picked up a bottle from a worn table and then filled two glasses. Pausing for a moment to gently stoke the rotting face of the zombie who stood close, he then picked up the glasses and carried them over to Whispers, holding one out. "What say we drink a toast to Typhon then, who seems to be having fun in all this?"

She took the glass he held, almost hesitantly, and lifted it. He brought his up, tapped it against hers, filling the room with a soft chime. Then he drank. Watching Whispers drink, her throat working as she swallowed the contents, he waited, and then asked, "And what of Whispers in the Darkness, who does she serve?"

The question surprised her, but he had timed it so she did not choke on her drink. "I do not serve anyone, like you I am on the run."

"Liar," he said to her, with no real heat, and finished off the contents of his glass. "Now, show me the respect I deserve and tell me."

Holding the glass in two hands, nervously fidgeting with it, she said, "I have been approached by agents of the Lion. They've asked me to extend and invitation to you?"

"And have you told them where I am?"

She shook her head.

"And were you followed here?"

She shook her head again.

"So killing you might be of a benefit to me."

She looked uncertain for a moment, and then said, "I will not go quietly."

He laughed softly. "I will think on it. Thank you for the message."

She nodded, put her glass down, and left.

Cold Rain returned to the window, wondering if he really wanted to remain in the service of any Death Lord. He looked at the silk shrouded Monstrance. He might, remain a rogue, do as he wished, take what little freedom he could.

It did not seem such a bad thing. But he would have to give up fantasies of revenge, for without a Death Lords backing and the resources it brought he would be foolish to pursue the powerful entities he had battled against.

"What do you think Mother?" he asked softly, "shall I be a slave again?"

No answer was given, for which he was grateful.

* * *

The Noss Fens was full of stagnant, scum covered pools and streams; thick black moss hung from the trees. The life energies of the elemental Pole of Wood mixed with the energies of death in the Shadowland, so that things grew and rotted at the same time.

In the centre of the Shadowland was the Mound of Forsaken Seeds; a vast labyrinthine ziggurat, sunken into the fen so only a hundred feet of the top was visible above ground. Within the tunnels and chambers of the Mound were odd and disquieting, lacking right angles or parallels line.

It was the power base of the Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils, and there she dwelt with her menagerie of foster children.

Cloud Hands, now a ghost, had been brought to the Mound, with Grace, by Shoat of Mire. She had not met the Dowager, for which was she was glad. She had seen the living children, with their fear filled eyes, and she had seen the ghosts. Many ghosts. The majority of them destined to become Soulsteel.

She and Grace had been given fine raiment, and comfortable quarters, and they were made to look out at the forge that took ghosts and turned them into Soulsteel. It was terrible, but Cloud Hands did not think to run. To run would be to give up her hatred of Heron Jade Eyes. To run would be to accept the call of Lethe and to be reborn, new and unknowing. That she could not accept, that her vengeance against Heron may never bear fruit.

If she was strong enough, then she would play her part in Heron's destruction.

If she could endure.

It was what she had been promised.

Grace and she did not speak often, they had little to say that had not been already said. They only waited, refusing to be cowed by the terrible sights they were forced to watch.

"Almost done," Shoat of Mire said.

Surprised, Cloud Hands turned to look at the child.

"What do you want?" Grace asked, trying to hide alarm with anger, Cloud Hands supposed.

The child knelt near the small table where Cloud Hands and Grace spend most of their days. She was dressed in a silk shift, the once delicate embroidery gone to tatters with age, and the material yellowed from too many washings. She canted her head to the side and put a pinky into one ear, working it back and forth in small circles. "I want to ask you about Ivory," she said, bringing her finger out to look it over.

She was not disturbed by the forge and the cries of ghosts, but Cloud Hands had been told the children of the Mound were surrounded by Soulsteel, made from the ghosts of their parents, grand parents, great grand parents, and even father back. Obviously they were inured to the idea.

"What do you want to know about her?" Cloud Hands asked.

"Why?" Graced followed.

"There are not many children Exalts," the Shoat of Mire explained. "So I want to meet her, if I can."

Cloud Hands and Grace looked at each other, then back to the child. "I saw her call foul magics against the Wyld Hunt," Cloud Hands told her. "And found many dead by her hand or the claws of her tiger."

"So she is a sorceress," Shoat said. "Neat. What else?"

"She would have been raised in luxury," Cloud Hands told her, "well educated, though possibly harshly so."

Shoat snorted. "Don't think she's got it more harsh than me."

Cloud Hands nodded in agreement.

"She will be capable of being unfailingly polite, if she choses to, and a master of etiquette, if she chose to," Grace said.

"If she choses to?" Shoat turned her gaze to Grace.

"The way we are raised. She will think too highly of herself, and is not old enough that anyone will have beaten that idea out of her. Likely no one will now."

"So she could be fun to play with," Shoat said.

"I think the two of you would become fast friends," Cloud Hands said, and it was not a compliment.

Shoat of Mire only smiled, suggesting she knew the true meaning behind the words. Instead of speaking more of Ivory she asked, "Do you think your hate is going to be strong enough, or will you just get lost with all the other ghosts?"

"It will be," Grace stated. "We will overcome."

"We shall see," Cloud Hands told her.

Shoat smiled. "Good, cause it is happening tomorrow." She smiled. "I'm gonna watch."

Cloud Hands felt ill, but did not let it cross her burnt face, and only nodded. "Then tomorrow our questions are answered."

* * *

The hand that closed on the Soulsteel railing was claw like, the skin withered, the flesh underneath melted away. Faded Maiden of the Tomb had grown more powerful in the weeks since she had returned to the Underworld, weeks spent meditating on the void. The power of it had entered her, strengthened her, but had left her changed. She looked more skeletal, the curves of the limbs had disappeared, and she had grown gaunt.

She was not concerned with these changes, for those that served Oblivion, as they grew in power, would never appear average to mortal eyes. And the signs of death upon her body pleased the Faded Maiden.

She looked down from the tower fortress, on the Walker's forces, gathered below in neat, orderly rows. They moved in uniformity, marching past their officers, weapons raised in salute.

Would they be sent to take the lands that had until recently been claimed by the Mask of Winters today? It was a question that everyone asked for the Walker in Darkness was not open with anyone. She wondered whether when the time came if she would be marching with the troops, or left in her comfortable cell.

Since she had returned, after her debriefing with the Walker in Darkness, she had been left alone, to meditate and train, but confined. Was she prisoner or being given a chance to recover from wounds? She did not know and no one would tell her, assuming they knew.

Someone called her name, and she looked back towards her room, saw one of the ghosts that served her.

"Truth wishes to speak with you Madame."

"Thank you," she said in a voice that had grown harsh, "show me to him."

Truth was waiting for her in the foyer. With him was a jade effigy, carrying a large check across its shoulders.

"Truth, I am glad to see you," she said.

He nodded. "Lord Walker has sent for you, I have brought your new armour."

She felt her heart speed up in her breast as the effigy placed the chest on the the floor. She stepped closer as Truth popped the heavy clasps. When he opened it she saw the black metal of Soulsteel within and was able to truly relax for the first time in many weeks.

"I shall let you prepare. You will find Lord Walker in the mausoleum." He dipped his head in a bow, and then left.

The ghosts came and helped Faded Maiden prepare. She did not even bother to have them carry the chest to her rooms, but stayed in the foyer, shedding her clothing so she stood naked, unashamed of her withered form. Soft cloth of silk steel, dyed black, was draped across her, to provide some padding where the armour might otherwise pinch and bite. Then the plate armour was placed on her.

It was a full suit, covering every part of her, the joints cleverly designed so that she might enjoy full mobility even while she was protected. She put on the helm, which fully enclosed her head, and was formed in the shape of a skull.

Flexing her fingers in their Soulsteel gauntlets she looked down in the chest, expecting to see a weapon, but there was nothing else. Behind her helm she frowned.

"Will there be anything else Madame?" one of the ghosts asked.

"No," she said, keeping all doubt from her voice.

She strode from the room, the metal of her boots ringing loudly on the stone floor, as the armour softly moaned around her.

For the first time in weeks she exited the tower, nearly running down the stairs. She slowed her pace slightly as she walked the brick road, around the drill square where the ghosts still marched, towards the vast mausoleum where the Walker in Darkness held court.

At the foot of the long stairs that led up to the jade clad, steel double doors, two bone striders stood guard. They held polearms with bladed heads that were nearly larger than the Faded Maiden. The weapon were crossed, creating a barrier to the stairs. She almost had to stop lest she run into the steel, but at the last moment the bone striders lifted their weapons so she could pass.

It showed little respect, and worried her.

Refusing to dwell on it she strode up the stairs. The doors opened just before she reached them, and she stepped into the dark chamber beyond.

There were others there, but her focus was completely on the Walker in Darkness. He was tall, muscular, in a Soulsteel breastplate over scarlet robes. His skin was blue, hair white and his eyes glowed with an orange light. Those eyes turned on her and the Faded Maiden felt as if she was laid bare before him.

"I have been waiting for Courtesan to return," he told her.

The Faded Maiden swallowed and then said, "Yes my lord."

"Had she returned I would have had her kill you."

The Faded Maiden felt her knees grow weak, and she gritted her teeth and forced her legs to hold her up. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"She has not returned," the Walker told her, "so instead, I charge you to the task that you willfully followed before. You will go forth and kill Courtesan, for I have questions for her ghost." He reached down and grasped an object wrapped in black silk. He pulled the material from it, revealing a huge, Soulsteel axe; a grand grimcleaver.

"An axe for an executioner," he told her, holding the weapon out towards her.

She stepped forward and took the weapon.

"Do what you need to succeed."

"I will my Lord," she said, the axe settling heavily into her hands.

"If you fail at this task your life will be forfeit, and your unlife will be suffering." He smiled.

"I understand my Lord. Courtesan will die."


End file.
